Well, ok..no, it wasn’t really morning, and technically it wasn’t breakfast seeing as we ate at around 1 o’clock, but by george it was a beautiful morning and it was a beautiful morning all because of breakfast. This breakfast. It was THAT good. The bacon was thick and delicious, the french toast perfect, the maple syrup was the real stuff (and good quality real stuff, at that), the potato and onion and red pepper fry was exactly as delicious as it sounds like it should be, the OJ was cold and zingy and the coffee fresh brewed and hot out of the thermos. It has become something of a saturday afternoon tradition for the four of us here: a big hearty breakfast sometime after noon on saturdays, usually a similar sort of thing..pancakes or waffles or french toast, bacon or sometimes sausage, eggs often and/or when the supplies afford it, fried potatoes and onions and bell peppers.
You know, routines and habits and doing the same old thing sometimes get a bad rap. Don’t settle into a rut, don’t be afraid of change! Do something different each day. Do something that scares you! Well I am good with doin’ something scary and I do believe that complacency in most parts of life can be deathly. But I’ll be damned if I don’t love sleeping in till just about the same time on Saturday and then eating the same-ish perfect breakfast in the afternoon and then sitting back with a cup of coffee to enjoy the ensuing food coma.
