Reading these post brought back fond memories of Mama making biscuits early each morning. Cat head biscuits rolled and then cut out with a old Vienna sausage can kept just for that purpose. Cooked in a cast iron skillet that I learned at an early age to not wash. That it must be handled with the care and dignity that it had earned. She did NOT bake them but cook them on top of the stove, and as the family watched and waited on her to finish breakfast, the conversation would always stop, and every eye watch as she skillfully flipped the biscuits in that pan into the air. Watched as they hovered above the stove, slowly made a 180 turn, and then as they fell back into the skillet, maneuvered so as to land centered, perfectly centered into a skillet that they filled fully. I asked Daddy once if she had ever missed. He said they had been married for 0ver 60 years and had never seen it even come close, they dared not miss. Egg's, bacon, sausage, grits, milk, coffee, juice, those biscuits, and a bowl of gravy. When I was little, this was a daily event, but over the years, as my siblings married and moved out, it slowly because a Sunday only breakfast and then, a event only for when everyone was home. By then she need help, and had more than she wanted in the kitchen. Fussing, and being hit with a dish towel, but the biscuits, that was her job, and hers alone, as nobody else could ever flip them like she did. Daddy would be 99 this year, and Mama 95, and yes I do miss them dearly. But I have so many good memories like those breakfast's, with her biscuits.
