I made homemade chicken stock yesterday. I felt like my momma would be proud of this... and she was. I love my mom. The older I get the more I realize how amazing she is. When I was little I was allergic to everything. No really... I was. Wheat, milk, corn... pretty much anything delicious. Thankfully it wasn't the kind of allergic that was life threatening. I just got horrible migraines and threw up everywhere. This meant my awesome mom had to make everything from scratch (which she did anyway) and buy horrible things like rice milk ice cream and barley bread at health food stores that smell like vitamins. (To this day the smell of a health food store makes me dry heave a little... sorry Tidal Creek) Mom was, and still is, a rock star at stretching pennies and cooking delicious chow. She made her own chicken stock. She canned pickles and tomatoes from our garden. She baked her own bread. She made homemade everything. No really... I never had box macaroni and cheese or soup out of a can until I was a teenager. And by that point my taste buds were spoiled.

I'm proud to be my mothers daughter. Now it's my turn to learn how to stretch pennies and make homemade chicken stock.  And to spoil little Deacons taste buds too!