Today Cindy came by and during the course of our conversation, sweet things were mentioned and after she left I kept thinking how I'd like to cook something sweet.

I have a lot of recipe books and decided I'd see what I could make with the ingredients I had on hand. When I pulled one of my favorite books out, another one came out with it. It was one I had bought at a church yard sale a few years back entitled "Log Cabin Cooking", Pioneer recipes and food lore. Well, as is my habit, I started reading at the front of the book and got some good laughs at some of the recipes mentioned and the instructions with them.

I was about ready to put that book back and find another one when I came upon a series of "faux" recipes, among them pecan pie. I read the ingredients and had them all, even a frozen pie crust. I made the pie and put it into the 350 degree oven. I didn't really know how long to bake it, because it said "cook 'til it looks done." Well, I ended up cooking it for about 35 minutes, more or less, until it looked done. I let it cool for a very few minutes and as soon as I could eat a slice without burning my mouth, I cut it. The bottom of the recipe had a notation that said, "This is a very good pie". And it surely was.

There were also faux recipes for clam chowder, olives,oysters, and mince pie. I will share the olive one with you. "Soak full grown green grapes 48 hours in salt and water, then scald with strong vinegar."

Right now I don't have a cat. I really don't even like cats. But Rebecca's cat lives with me and I feed, water and scoop the poop. His name is Tiger and he'll be 6 in May and is one dumb cat. He has a refillable cat food dish and water in the basement where he sleeps at night, but the minute he hears my alarm go off he gets at the basement door and starts yowling. If I open the door before I go to the bathroom, he stands outside the door and yowls. He acts like he doesn't know the way to the kitchen where he has another dish of food and water. When I come out of the john, he nearly trips me winding around my legs to the kitchen. When we get to the kitchen, he won't even approach the dish until I kick it with my foot to show him it has food in it. Then he'll nibble a little.

Years ago when Tami and Keister were young we had a skinny cat named Sam. He was also tiger striped but brownish instead of gray. He hated me with a passion (cat), and one summer he brought me 21 live snakes. He would come up to the back door, meow loudly and when I stepped out the door, there would be a live snake curled up waiting for me.This is the same cat that would jump up on the rim of the swimming pool and walk around it for a while and then jump in and swim.

Once when we lived on Baugh St. we had a black and white cat named Sylvester who thought he was king of Baugh St. He would go across the street and perch on the porch of a neighbor and watch for cats to walk up or down the street. Whenever he saw a strange cat, he would jump on it and beat it up.Then he would march back across the street with his tail up and his ears up as if to say, "This is MY street, stay away".

Once when my sister lived here in Danville, sombody brought in a stray kitty and it was sitting in the kitchen while she prepared dinner. It didn't meow in a normal way, it said "Haammm". That's what she started calling him and that's what he stayed. Ham the cat!