Homegrown Aromas-F

For years, those homegrown scents have been stuck in my head. It's mother's home-grown and freshly cooked mustard and turnip greens. Neither jiffy mix nor Marie Callendar, but it was mama's own homemade bread. That sweet aroma of blackberry, peach, or apple pie was a little boy's dream. I cannot forget those awesome smells after school of a pot of pinto beans. I smell the smoke from the pits of daddy's homemade drill. I hear the sound of a handy device made for parching peanuts. Daddy is barbecuing burgers and ribs from a very recent pig kill. For years, those aromas arrested and captivated everyone of us. And everybody in the community thought that daddy's meat was a must My Multi-tasking mom cooked, washed cloths, and listened to a pastor preach. Smells of cloths being washed and dried out back by the sun are unforgettable. Mama always used tide or cheer for laundry, and Clorox was her only bleach. My wife often speaks of how mother's homemade corn bread was irresistible. The aroma of grandma's coffee and mama's fried chicken? Most memorable. 02252018 PS Contest, The Scents of Baking Bread......, Sara Kendrick English Quintain, ababb, 3 stanzas; HM