So the Proper Southern Baby Girl woke up this morning, and I went in her room to greet her. The dog jumped on top of her and licked her all over the face, as she tried to speak. She seemed a little upset. Then she said, "Mommy, I had a dream." I was prepared for a bad dream that involved dragons or clowns. She said, "Mommy, I dreamed about biscuits." Okay, then. She said, "Mommy, will you make me a biscuit?" If you have followed this blog for very long, you know that I do not make biscuits. I bake the frozen or canned variety. When I have attempted to make biscuits from scratch, I end up with something less than edible. Good for home defense, yes. Good with some fried bologna, not so much. For some reason, this morning I responded with "sure baby, I'll make you a biscuit." I threw some self-rising flour in a bowl and added some butter-flavored Crisco (heaven knows why I own that), milk and apple cider vinegar. Was there randomness involved? Yes, absolutely. But, I will say that they were edible. They were a bit crumbly, based on the look of my floor, but they were definitely edible. What did I learn this morning? Sometimes it is okay to just throw a bunch of stuff together and see how it turns out. It may not be the best lesson, especially if you build cars, but use it as you will.