Grandma and me gathering eggs

Cooking has been a passion of mine since as far back as I can remember. My maternal grandparents lived on a small farm in West Virginia, which seemed really big when I was a kid and had to help with the animals and gardens and apples orchards. it was settled in the perfect spot down in a valley. It looked a lot like the black hills of Germany, covered with trees, especially pine trees. The sky seemed close enough to reach out and touch.  What a treat to wake up in the mornings to the smell of freshly baked bread and the sound of eggs frying in the iron skillet. Not to forget the thick bacon and sausage that came from their own pigs. Eating the homemade applesauce would bring back the joys of the hours spent with family preparing it. My sister and I would get to go with our grandfather to the orchards to pick the apples. We called our grandfather Moredaddy. To our young minds, that name was logical. He had to be Moredaddy since we already have someone we called Daddy . We would ride in the back of his old pick up truck and have fun with all the bumps along the way. Now that I am an adult with grandchildren of my own I appreciate the time he spent finding all the right places to hit all those wonderfully exciting bumps at just the right time! When the truck was full of apples, back to the house we’d go, eating a few of those luscious fruits along the way. This was just the beginning of a weekend spent with aunts and uncles and cousins galore preparing their yummy applesauce. The bakery smells and fond memories can be created today with much less work! Bake the bread in a bread machine or buy frozen loaves and bake in the oven. The applesauce can be made on top of the stove with just a few apples and butter and sugar but if you are in a hurry just open a jar and cook some adding a little butter with extra sugar and cinnamon. Enjoy!!!

Mom and her apples