Come Join Me For A Cup Of Coffee

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I seem to be in a rather reminiscent mood this morning. I have been think about day that have gone by. Days when I would dance about the kitchen watching my Aunt Bea chopping and cooking and everything else that goes into making a really delicious spaghetti sauce. As her hands we busy with preparing the sauce she would tell me tales of her childhood. Days of growing up during the depression, days of doing without. Apparently they were a happy, healthy family who learned the value of being thrifty. They made it through, had their adventures, and came out the better for it. I heard stories of walking to the general store to pick up a loaf of bread for 2 cents. Can you imagine that? They sometimes got day old bread for 1 cent. Most of all I can remember the feeling of love and sharing when I was back in the kitchen so many years ago learning about depression life and love. We would pretend that I was have coffee with her as the sauce would bubble merrily on the stove. By the way, I still use my Aunt's spaghetti sauce recipe but only when I have a full day to devote to being in or near the kitchen.