by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from Poosey.
You didn’t mess with Mabel Cunningham. She was the queen of the potluck, and every time the hot summer months roll around I think back to the days when Mabel ruled our church’s kitchen. When Mabel died there was some talk about erecting a shrine to her tuna casserole. Other churches dedicate choir lofts and pianos to various departed congregational saints, but the