In a galaxy long ago, hit the barn to milk at 4:30, Grandma had breakfast rolling by the time the milk cans were rolled to the driveway. Nobody needed to ring a bell, you could smell the sourdough biscuits when they came out of the oven, more like little loaves of bread but the taste and texture was wonderful. Jersey butter and bacon out of the smoke house, home made sausage and hen fruit fresh from the boxes.
I smell fresh baked bread and I see her standing at that old stovfe with her apron clutched around a hot pan of biscuits turning to bring them to the table.
Great memories retold of a simpler time. Love it.
Reminds me of when friends would gather to bale hay and put it up. always a hot day and then the big feed at the days end. Miss those days alot.
