Waking up and trying to decide what to do for breakfast. Normally I would get up and do what Mama would have done. Put the coffee on, drink a cup and start pulling together breakfast. She couldn't have had just sausage or bacon, but had to do both. If it was a holiday, like today, we would have had ham too! And of course the biscuits. Those bisquits were like Lays potato chips, you couldn't have just one. And I didn't. Throw in the jelly, honey, molasses, gravey (both brown gravey and possibly red eye gravey).

Those bisquits remind me of the time we all made our annual Thanksgiving trip home to see Mama and Daddy. Mother as always made breakfast for everyone that Thanksgiving day. Everything smelled so good. We sat down at the table for breakfast and of course I started my breakfast with two bisquits. I noticed when I ate the first one that they didn't taste quite right, but they were so fluffy and beautiful. They kept speaking to me. Sherri leaned over to me and whispered "Do the bisquits taste ok to you?". Of course my response back was sure...go on honey just your imagination.

After my second bisquit, I too had the idea that something wasn't quite right. Eventually word got around to everybody that something wasn't quite right with the bisquits this year. So me and the sisters got together and decided that they would take Mama to Wal Mart in an effort to make another round of bisquits to determine what went wrong. After they left, I made a few more and found that the funny taste was still there.

When Mama returned I reported to the sisters that I still couldn't determine where the funny taste was coming from. I finally decided the best idea was to just ask Mama what she thought. Never expected to hear what she told me. I laugh to this day about her story. Mama said they went to Williamsville to pick up the meat for breakfast. While they were at Williamsville, they decided to buy the flour for the bisquits. Williamsville puts their flour in burlap bags for those folks buying in bulk like Mama. Daddy of course carried his gasoline can for kerosene with him so that he could get that filled up at the same time. Of course the groceries go in the back of the pickup and so does the kerosene. Mama's take on the story is that some of the kerosene splashed out on the flour....

God only knows what would have happened had someone lit a cigarette that morning. Thank goodness we had all pretty much given up smoking. Can't explain the indigestion that comes with eating kerosene bisquits. Oh well....what I would give to be back at that table, of course with the bisquits made right!

Mama believed in feeding us well, even if we didn't have anything else, we were kept fed.

I'm off to my oatmeal and orange juice!