Nostalgia On a Snowy Morning

By Vickilane
Nostalgia On a Snowy Morning
When I awake to a scene like this, my first impulse is to burrow back under the comforter and wait for spring. But I lured myself out of bed by thinking of the breakfast I'd planned. 
Nostalgia On a Snowy Morning
Creamy leftover grits and sausage from Conecuh County, Alabama--my maternal grandfather's birthplace. My nostalgia for the Alabama I visited when I was young is tempered by my dislike for her politics but they sure make good sausage.
Nostalgia On a Snowy Morning
Though my grandparents moved to Florida early in their marriage, they never forgot the food of their youth and regularly received care packages from Alabama kin--spicy sausage, stone-ground meal and grits, and ribbon cane syrup. We're fortunate to have friends who grew their own sorghum last year and gave us a jar. 
Nostalgia On a Snowy Morning
John fed the birds while I cooked breakfast--warm and hearty and just the thing for a cold, cold day.

It snowed till almost noon and we ended up with about nine inches--a trifling amount, my Canadian friends are saying, no doubt. 

But it was the perfect background for this hearty breakfast--sausage and grits with a drizzle of sorghum. (As Clifford, our farming mentor used to say, 'Them are good 'lasses.'