I grew up in Conroe, TX and can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen it snow. This is a short little story about the first time I experienced the fluffy white stuff.

Years ago I took a small writing class with my mom at the retirement home where she was living. This little poem was one of our assignments and my first attempt at writing a poem.

I learned to cook as soon as I was old enough to reach the burners on the stove. This little story is about one of the biggest baking blunders I’ve ever experienced. It took three attempts over the course of several weeks before my mother figured out the problem.