My Mom was the youngest of 4 girls. One could cook like an angel (if angels cook), one was the family baker, who baked lemon meringue pies to cry for and tiny cinnamon rolls she baked in a square pan which my brother and I could finish in one sitting along with an unreasonable amount of sweet butter, one could sew and knit, and there was my Mom, who burnt every pot she cooked in, even water! Because of her (or in spite of her), I learned early on to cook and bake and love it. Perhaps she wasn't very good in the kitchen, but our house was filled with laughter all the time. I hope my daughters remember me with the love I still feel for my mother.

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