Some say deviled eggs are just deviled eggs. Not me. There are many ways to season them. Try this one. Cool and peel hard boiled eggs. Halve lengthwise and remove yolks. Lightly mash yolks. Stir in seasonings and half the bacon. Spoon mixture into washed and dried egg white halves. Top with remaining crumbled bacon. Chill until ready to serve.

What is an Interurban? If you were not around during Depression Days, you would not know. Oh, you might notice the raised track bed out towards Parma or Grass Lake in the other direction. Probably a discontinued railroad line, you say. Nope. It was the remains of the Interurban line that ran between Chicago and Detroit.

Here is a tasty way to prepare a peach cobbler. You have everything in your pantry. Appreciate the idea of using both peaches and pears. That is a tasty combination.

In saucepan over medium heat, combine peaches with syrup, 1/3 cup sugar, the spices and cornstarch. Stirring occasionally, bring to a boil. Add margarine. Stir to combine. Pour into ungreased 9 by 13-inch baking pan. Prepare drop biscuits, except add 1/3 cup sugar to dry ingredients. Drop biscuits from tablespoon onto peaches. Bake at 425 F. for 20 to 25 minutes or until top is lightly browned. Makes 6 servings.

Refrigerated biscuits are fun to work with. Then have a slightly different texture than homemade biscuits. Surprise everyone with their date centers. Fun to make. Your kids could help you. Set aside 1/2 of melted butter. Divide rest between two 8-inch ring molds, coating sides well. Put 2 tablespoons syrup in bottom of each mold. Mix brown sugar, cinnamon and almonds. Set aside half of this mixture. Sprinkle rest in the molds over syrup. Pit dates ...

There weren't supposed to be any water moccasin in East Tennessee. Supposedly, the winters were too cold here for them to survive. Timber rattlers and copperheads abound in this area, especially where the ridges are undisturbed. We were told not to worry because there were no cottonmouths this far north. Not so. Let me tell you about it.

I began smoking cigarettes when I was fifteen. It seemed like the sophisticated thing to do. Lord knows, I wanted to fit in. It soon became a habit. I would hunt for my glasses so I could find my cigarettes. I was noted for searching through the ashtray, sorting out the longest cigarette butts. It was hell to run out of cigarettes. We were living on Lee Road east of Michigan Center, Michigan. Extra money was hard to come by, trying to build our house. Every spare cent went into buying materials. Almost every cent, that is.

Since I am allergic to egg yolks, I am always looking for a recipe without them. Try this one

No egg bread pudding
14 ounce can sweetened condensed milk
6 ounce can evaporated milk
3/4 cup fat free milk
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla
6 cups day old whole wheat bread, Cut in 1-inch cubes

Last week Anne came into the house in a hurry with something on her mind. She had been down at the road getting the mail. "Guess what?" She said. "You have been called for jury duty!"

"ME?" I screamed. "But I'm ninety-five years old. (Pause) Yes, I would love to serve on a jury. Say! You know, I COULD do it. There is an elevator at the back of the Court House. I could take it to the second floor, wheel myself down the hall to the court room at the front of the building and sit comfortably in my wheelchair at the jury box. I would be fulfilling my civic duty. Yes, I could do it."

Several years ago, a memoir writing class was offered at the Senior Citizen Center at Halls Crossroads. I had been trying to write about my past and needed someone to critique my efforts. I figured this would be a good place to start. I had no idea how much it would help. The classes met the first and third Tuesday of the month. Bob Farmer was the moderator. They ended when the class reduced in size because of deaths, relocations and other interests.

When I think of my mother-in-law's cooking, I think of potatoes, pancakes and goose. believe that Myrtle was basically a good cook, but not with anything involving these three items. When she came to live with us at Pulaski, she seldom volunteered to do any cooking.

Peeling potatoes was her favorite chore. When it was time to fix supper, she would cheerily announce, "I'll do the potatoes." There was no stopping her. She really wanted to peel the potatoes. Myrtle was good at it. The peelings would roll away from her paring knife in thin curls. She wasted very little. You could use her in a training video. She peeled potatoes that well. There was one problem. She peeled lots of potatoes, perhaps about five pounds at a time. That was too much for three adults and one baby for supper.