My son, Steven, is now resting comfortably in Kuwait, awaiting transport back to Texas. His mother and Randy will be waiting, along with his brothers. Chances are good that Mom will be holding a big bag of wet, sloppy "attack sugars", and favorite game they played since he was a baby.

Meteorologists predicted a lot of snow for our area this weekend and the first thing my family asked me related to bread, not money. "Do you have all the ingredients to make Aunt Bea's pocketbook yeast rolls?" My answer, of course, was yes.

In response to Moms call, he pulled that old stick horse up to the rail, slid out of the saddle, stroked Paint's neck, gave him a cube of sugar, spun on his bootheals and headed in for lunch. Mom could see he was in a pretty down mood, what with his hat tipped to one side, his eyes on the floor and his movements so slow it would take him five minutes to get into the bathroom, wash his hands and return to the table for lunch!