Tuesday, November 4, 2008


Mom was an excellent cook. Except that her pancakes were always tough. Looking back, I think she must have beat the batter too much.

One morning she tried again--made us pancakes for breakfast. We could not eat them. She got mad and threw them out the kitchen window.

The following day I found our yellow cat dead in the back yard. His mouth was full of mom's pancakes. Mom never lived it down.

Neither, of course, did the cat.

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