I love it when I have time to play in the kitchen. Next to writing, I suppose it is my favorite pastime. Growing up in Michigan had its share of frosty days. There were times when the snow would drift, covering the lower half of the driveway, which curved like a horseshoe. That left only one way in and out. Mom referred to it as a “toboggan run”! For you Southern types, a toboggan is a sled. 🙂 During those sweater-wearing, scarf wrapping days, there were certain dinners Mom would make that would fill the house with the most tantalizing aromas. One was Hungarian Goulash. It is a savory dish…

It is the season of harvest moons, crickets singing and leaves changing. Growing up in Michigan, it was also apple cider weather. The cider mills, particularly Goodison, was a wonderful jaunt on a Saturday afternoon. I was thrilled to see it is still open. If you are anywhere nearby, please go – it will not disappoint! It was about half an hour or so from the farm. Complete with winding roads, hills and splashes of color everywhere, the trip itself was beautiful. And then…to top it off, the cider mill was the destination! The fragrance of freshly pressed apples and sizzling cinnamon donuts filled the air. The donuts were small…

I’m Irish – peasant stock mostly, although my ancestors do have some “royal” blood. Not that it matters…mostly my lineage have been hard workers who persevered through difficulties and lived in honor. My Grandpa (Mom’s dad) was an avid gardener. Each year he and mom Mom would look through seed catalogues and pick out the varieties they wanted to plant in the coming season. That usually started in January when the weather outside would make even us northerners want to hibernate. Then, it was up to Dad to design and layout the garden. Being an accomplished draftsman, he did this flawlessly. The rows were straight and precise, the spacing perfect.…