So I didn't wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee this morning. And it's okay. Not like there's anyone here to actually do it, but myself.
But the thought of bacon and coffee is comforting. A natural alarm clock. Aromatherapy for some of us. lol.
I'm getting a little nostalgic, but far from sad, because it's nearing the two year since my dad died. Weird to think it.
But one of the many good memories I have of growing up is how the smell of breakfast was like the family alarm clock. I mean FULL breakfast. I don't know how he did it, because he often got in from work after midnight, but by 6:30 or 7 am, we'd have a full breakfast ready for us -- my mom, sister, and me -- prepared by him. Like the works -- eggs, grits, bacon or sausage, potatoes, all that choleserolic love on a plate from parent to child.
He didn't believe in cold or quick breakfast. He said we learn better and are more productive when we ate full breakfast... and made our beds in the morning.
It's fun thinking about it. Not sad at all.
So I didn't wake up to bacon or coffee this morning. I went out and bought it, went with a good friend. The way we do it in the 2000s, I guess. But I ate it and savored it as much as if it were made at home by the people I love.
Still reading The Senator's Wife by Sue Miller (hear an excerpt). Pretty good so far. Got into another Obama/Clinton match last night with a friend... that's a whole 'nother story. I don't even start the stuff anymore. Somebody needed a "special" coffee last night to chill :-)