, one of the first things that I learned about his family was that his mother was an excellent cook. Everybody who was invited to sit down at her table accepted with delight, for they knew that they were in for a real treat. They never went away hungry and always knew that they had just eaten some of the best tasting food on God's good earth.

While she could cook anything exceptionally well, none of us in the family ever knew her to prepare anything that we didn't like, except one occasion. That time she had made a new dish, hot potato salad, that we all detested. I am sure that it was made well by Mimi's usual standards, but we just didn't care for it and much preferred her cold potato salad. Always wanting to please her family, she never made the hot kind again.

When I married into the family, I was quite intimidated by her cooking ability, for I had no cooking skills at all. To make me feel at ease, she said something that I will never forget. She said, "Barbara, Bill (Truett's dad) and I don't care how you can cook or what you can cook. We're happy with a hamburger. Just invite us to your home. That's all we ask." Being re-assured in such a kind way, I was happy to have them come to our home any time that they could and I never again worried about my cooking. I was so very fortunate to have such a compassionate and loving mother-in-law as she was.

Long before Truett and I married, he learned that I loved his mother's pies and he began to bring me a piece whenever she made one. It got so that every time he came to see me, I immediately asked, "Did you bring me any pie?" So he nicknamed me "Pie." That name stuck and he has called me that all these years. Even our grandson calls me that now, and some of you have probably heard him call me "Pie" when you have been in our office.

His mother could make the best blueberry pie that I have ever put in my mouth, and her apple, coconut, chocolate, and buttermilk pies were equally wonderful. But when she made fried pies, we all thought that we had died and gone to heaven!

While I learned how to make potato salad like she did and Truett learned how to fry chicken nearly as good as hers was, he has often lamented not learning from her how to make those fried pies.

Not long ago, Dorothy Walton (Since there are two Dorothy Waltons who live in Lafayette, I will clarify which one I am talking about and that is the Miss Walton who lives on Wooten Avenue) brought us some of her fried pies and we just loved them. Truett said, "Now these are just like Mother's. I wish I knew how to make them."

So when I called Dorothy to thank her for the pies, I asked her if she would call Truett the next time she planned to make them and let him come watch her. She kindly agreed to do that.

So this past Wednesday afternoon Truett and Dorothy made pies together. He had such a good time and learned a great deal from Dorothy. He really appreciated her kindness in taking time to teach him and he is looking forward to trying to make some on his own now.

He brought home some of his and Dorothy's masterpieces, and I got to enjoy the fruits of their labor, too. Now that he has learned the art of making fried pies, it probably won't be long before we will be making trips back to Dorothy's with loads of our clothes to ask her to use her magic needle and let out our seams. She is the magician we call upon every time our clothes need to reflect our current weight. Besides being able to make those wonderful fried pies, she has a real skill with the needle, too!

Yes, Miss Dorothy Walton is a really special lady and one of the nicest women in Macon County. She has been very good to us, and we truly value her friendship.

Before I close, I would like to thank Elsie E. Lyle for the humorous story she sent me. I enjoyed it, for I do like to laugh. Thanks for thinking of me, Mrs. Lyle, and sharing a bit of humor with me.