Memoring, smells, and pictures flood my mind as I remember my aunt and her kitchen.  Those were times and spaces that I will treasure forever.  My Aunt Mae was a sweet little old lady that loved to garden, can, cook, bake, and even heal folks with her herbal medcine.  There was nothing like her pies.  She made that with homemade buttermilk, she milked and churned herself.  She rolled out each piece with love and only used the best apples, that we harvasted, from the trees in the mountains surrounding us.  Sometimes we harvasted wild raspberries, blackberries, or peaches.  No doubt about it, the best pie that I ever tasted.