Everyone can tell I love to eat. I really, really like ice cream, fried chicken, greens peas and mashed potatoes and banana pudding and steamed broccoli. Of all the foods, I like a good red juicy apple the best. You know the kind. You bite into it and it crunches between your teeth and then those cold juices hit your taste buds and sent a cool sweet taste through your mouth. Like I said, I love a good apple.
When I was nine years old, my family and I visited my grandparents in Arkansas. They lived on a farm in rural eastern Arkansas. Dad liked to go out on the farm with my granddad not so much for the work but because he and granddad had an understanding; if dad didn’t tell mom about granddad dipping snuff, dad could ride the horses. For a city boy that was pretty heady stuff. Mom and grandma worked in the kitchen making the best food in the world while drinking sweet tea and gossiping about all the relatives.
When I was nine years old, my family and I visited my grandparents in Arkansas. They lived on a farm in rural eastern Arkansas. Dad liked to go out on the farm with my granddad not so much for the work but because he and granddad had an understanding; if dad didn’t tell mom about granddad dipping snuff, dad could ride the horses. For a city boy that was pretty heady stuff. Mom and grandma worked in the kitchen making the best food in the world while drinking sweet tea and gossiping about all the relatives.