Thanksgiving is here, and we are going to Georgia. I'll be happy to see family, but it won't be the same. There is no home to go home to. I don't have a kitchen to cook in. Even though I cooked very little, I still liked to be able to if I wanted.
I'm fighting the dreaded malady of depression. It's a constant battle, but I can put on my happy face and no one will know. It's what I do best.
My daughter, her husband and the baby are coming and we are staying in our pastor's and wife's home. They offered. I'm not complaining. It's just not home. The kids are sad because this is their first Christmas since the sale of our home, their childhood home. I wonder if they will ride by or if it will make them sadder.
This time of year, I crave my mama's cooking and that includes chocolate pie, banana pudding, carrot cake, pound cake and German chocolate cake. Yes, we all like something different and she accommodated.
I met a lady Saturday at the Holiday Bazaar who does a whole lot of baking.
She had such a pretty presentation. Yelp, FREE and yuuuuumy!
The salted caramel was divine. I didn't want to be like the ladies in the supermarket standing in line to sample the product.
These young girls are making a living the smart way, though probably not the easiest. At least we know that homemade will never go out of season.
by Jessica Renaud