Failure to Notice

“The range of what we think and do
Is limited by what we fail to notice
And because we fail to notice
That we fail to notice
There is little we can do to change
Until we notice how failing to notice
Shapes our thoughts and deeds.”

Laing

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Biscuit Maker

Lately I’ve enjoyed a frozen biscuit with honey each morning for breakfast. A hot biscuit, drizzled in honey, with a hot cup of black coffee makes for a tasty breakfast. This morning my taste for biscuits brought back a memory of mine with my grandmother. Gee Gee was my dad’s mom who lived on the far eastern side of VA in a small town called Suffolk, but it’s not so small now.

My fond memory is related to watching Gee Gee make her delicious homemade biscuits. She was a a stellar biscuit maker, so says a young boy who loved breakfast then and now.

I remember Gee Gee inside her kitchen, with her flour covered apron draped over her clothes, prepping biscuits for those who were still asleep. She was great with the roller, knowing just how far to stretch the dough and just how much flour to add. She always let me use the round template to cut out each round biscuit. Some were big for dad and granddaddy, while others were small for the rest of us. She would place the biscuits on the pan, while I mashed the dough back together in preparation for the roller to make additional biscuits. Gee Gee’s homemade biscuits with some strawberry jam was all that was needed for this young boy to be ready to attack daily life with fun and festivity (e.g. climbing trees, catching crickets, shucking corn, peeling snap peas, riding bicycles, etc.).

I’m grateful to the Lord for memory and the ability to reflect back on lives who influenced mine.