Another thing about reading Robert Morgan........ His characters consume enough biscuits, molasses, and coffee to make that menu contagious! Johnny and I renewed our vow to eat healthy and visit the gym during the week while every Sunday is a Feast Day to celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus. This morning I popped buttermilk biscuits into the oven and brewed a pot of The Taste of Texas Cinnamon Coffee. I'm not quite the caliber of woman such as Julie or Ginny from Morgan's novels so my biscuits were Pillsbury Flaky Buttermilk style - sinfully easy. Johnny is not a big fan of molasses and if at all possible I eat biscuits a particular way: a spoonful of brown sugar smack in the middle creating a tiny, sugary sandwich. I'm sure I ate biscuits this way with my parents, but my most vivid memories of such a breakfast are in San Angelo, TX with my Papaw. While I munched sweet biscuits today I closed my eyes for half a minute and could see Papaw's little kitchen, his blue coveralls, and cowboy boots. I remembered his cornbread drowned in milk. A special batch of pralines without pecans for me. The best, fresh tomatoes from his garden. And his perfect buttermilk pie. All of the culinary memories made me long for the infamous 8-hour road trip to San Angelo so I could hug Papaw's neck. Other plans were in the works; I put Johnny Cash's The Man Comes Around in the player and got dressed for Church. I realized some of the great men in my life donned cowboy boots - Papaw and my late father-in-law, John LeRoy Simmons. I can't say Johnny Cash was a great man in my life but his music is a profound, personal influence and we all know he was comfortable in cowboy boots. I guess today was meant for nostalgia, gratefulness for Southern roots, and strong men in my life. And, a reminder to be a good girl and call Papaw tomorrow.
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