I make good biscuits. Are they the best biscuits? I have no idea. But I enjoy them and when others are around they seem to rapidly disappear. For instance, one time when I had people over for breakfast, I made a batch and left them out on a plate while I busied myself with other things. When I returned, a friend had eaten them all! I asked him why he didn’t save any for the rest of us, and he said they were just so tasty he couldn’t stop. Fortunately, they don’t take long to make, so I quickly whipped up more so my other guests could eat some, too.
Last spring, my grandfather was in poor health. While his spirits were high and his mind sharp, his body required round-the-clock care. My grandmother had taken on the task of tending to him, which left her little time to do other things, so I flew down to Texas to help out for a few days. While I’m not much use outside on a farm (my tractor-driving skills notwithstanding), I can cook and clean, which is how I decided to ease her load. Before I started preparing meals, however, a trip to the grocery store was in order. As I surveyed what was needed, I saw a suspicious-looking cylinder in the refrigerator.
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