I guess my feet know where they want me to go

So, yesterday Brent and I made a crock-pot full of stew to keep us eating healthy through the week. It's our favorite way to use our abundance of fresh vegetables. 

I don't know what I did differently this time, maybe it was the cabbage . . . at any rate, I pulled the lid off the steaming crock-pot and I entered a memory. In that brief instance, I was transported to my great-grandfather's house in McGuireville, Arizona. I heard his homemade engines rhythmically working in the shop. I smelled the falling leaves from the huge trees outside, and I remembered visits with parents, siblings, cousins. In my memory, Grandpa always a big pot of stew or beans cooking slowly, waiting for us. I just hope it's something I can recreate again.