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Mom’s kitchen

Grandma’s kitchen was always a special place for me. The warmth of the wood stove, the smell of biscuits and bacon, the wood box full in the corner, a fire in the fireplace helping drive out the biting cold of a deep winter morning. I can still hear the radio turned down low in those early morning hours as she faithfully cared for her family. Homemade butter, fresh eggs, melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. You could always find a biscuit in the warmer of the woodstove throughout the day or a cake of cornbread cooking in the three-legged iron skillet on the cement hearth of the fireplace.

There was always plenty to do. As a child, I got very tired churning milk in the ol’ churn crock, but I loved watching “Mom” work up the cream. She would let me fill the butter molds. I think she knew I loved the designs on top of the molds.

From the washing canning jars in warm summer days chopping wood in the breezes of fall, I gathered wonderful memories, wholesome memories. Mom is gone to heaven now, and I am forever grateful for all she placed in my heart.

Kimberly McNeill, Ferguson, Blue Ridge Electric

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