After eating dinner around 9:30 tonight, I was hunting around looking for dessert. We have managed to buy groceries since the move, but things are still pretty scattered in the house so I haven't really been breaking out the cookbooks and working up any creme brulee these days. I stumbled upon an individual fruit cup of peaches and some Sarah Lee pound cake my mother had left here. As I was crafting my dessert plate, I started saying to myself "peaches and pound cake", amused at the alliteration. Then I realized why it was stuck on repeat in my head.

My father talked about being in Vietnam and that when the helicopters would drop their food, everyone would barter and bicker like kids over the desserts. Daddy has said on more than one occasion that peaches and pound cake helped keep his spirits up while overseas.

After an incredibly long day, peaches and pound cake really hit the spot. If things continue like this, I may have to get Mom to mail me dry socks and Smithfield ham, just like she did for Daddy 40 years ago.