What’s in a name? Much, I think. Would a cake by any other name be as alluring? I think not. It’s all in the branding – I’d far rather make a buttermilk cake than a plain old white cake, or, while we’re at it, “Impossible (fill in the blank) Casserole” or “Grandma Flo’s Shipwreck“… wait, I would totally make Grandma Flo’s Shipwreck, if it wasn’t one of those layered casseroles with sliced potato and ground beef, topped with a tin (not a can mind you, a tin) of tomato soup. The raspberries are almost gone. And the Saskatoons, choke cherries, and rhubarb… even the leaves have up and left the tree out front – not entirely, but they abruptly started to bail out yesterday afternoon, as if on cue. Late this morning, the sun on my back felt like fall sun. I still can’t place what made it different than the sun of a week ago. W and I went to my sister’s and IContinue reading