Sunday Lunches

I grew up in the south and church and Sunday lunch were part of life. We usually went to Mom's for lunch after church with all the family present, it was kind of expected. We never stopped to wonder if maybe Mom was tired of fixing lunch! When Grandma Barnes was alive, we spent many Sunday's at her house, she and Grandpa lived within sight of our house. We ate all the things we now know were bad for us such as fried chicken, fried okra, fried potatoes. Although both my grandparents lived to ripe old ages eating all that fried food! Lots of what we ate came from the garden, too. My family continues to have Sunday lunches and they gather frequently at my sister's house. I miss those Sunday lunches at home, not just the food but family, too.
I had my own version of Sunday lunch today. When I called Michael's Dad, Nat this morning, he said the wind was blowing and it was raining at his house in Big Timber and that it was making him cranky. I suggested he have a change of scenery and come up to our house for lunch. Our friend, Larry, called and said he was bringing us some loads of gravel and I invited him for lunch. We had tomato and rice soup (Larry does not eat salad) to start then marinated pork tenderloin and my famous (in the family) garlic mashed potatoes. For dessert we had oatmeal/chocolate chip/pecan cookies which I made for the concrete crew that will work tomorrow.
Yesterday as I was driving the riding mower back up our driveway, I happened to glance over to my right into the tall grass--there lay a baby fawn so still--it didn't move, not even its head in spite of the noisy lawnmower! It was a beautiful sight!

Another view of the worm fence with the snow covered Crazy Mountains in the distance.