Shortest To-Do List Ever!

This week's Think Write Thursday had a different kind of twist to it, since apparently participation is not what Carole and Kat were hoping.  I understand that, since I am not always a participant.  Sometimes I seriously just don't want to put the time and effort into a topic that doesn't grab me, and other times I truly forget altogether.  So they asked us this week to think about Three Things Thursday, and share three things from our To-Do List.

As you probably know I love lists, and I have To-Do Lists that are a) very long, b) unrealistic, and c) lists of To-Do Lists *for* my other To-Do Lists!  (Ridiculous, I know.  So.Many.Lists.  Oh well.)  But I can certainly share three things that are in the top of my brain (and its own list) right now, so here goes.

1. Find another job.  This has been on the top of many lists for a long while, but recent events have made it even more necessary for me.  The real kicker was yesterday, when I asked if someone could please empty the trash in the library, since our usual person is on vacation this week, and nothing had been picked up since last Thursday.  The solution: *I* am now collecting the library's trash.  I am not too good to do this, or a snob who thinks that people who collect trash are somehow not worth thinking about.  Rather, I am angry that this is the solution they came up with.  The powers-that-be decided outsourcing the building maintenance would be a great idea, so there are very specific things that the cleaning service will and will not do.  I could go on, but suffice it to say that apparently adding someone else's duties to another employee when someone is out is not part of the contract.  Which is stupid.  Anyhoo, I am very hopeful that something happens sooner rather than later on the job front for me.  Because especially very soon, it will only get worse for a long while before it gets any better.

OK, sorry for the mini-rant.  Moving on.

2.  Clean out one closet.  Yes, all of the closets need to be cleaned out, but you know, baby steps.  Surely I can get one out of the way.  Theoretically, it will help remind me not to just throw stuff into closets willy-nilly, and cut down on the need to do it again whenever it becomes Another Big Thing.

3.  Finish - or just even get closer to finishing - seaming a sweater.  My Custom Fit sweater was finished and blocked months ago.  A couple of weeks ago, I seamed the shoulders.  That's it.  If I would actually finish seaming it, then I could knit the neckline, and then I could actually WEAR it.  And the weather is only going to get cooler in the next couple of months, so I don't have the well-it's-not-like-I-could-wear-it-in-this-weather-anyway excuse.

To some extent, the first item is out of my control - but the other two could actually - hopefully - happen.  Yay.  :-) And I could do them this weekend ... or, I could do this:

I won't.  But ... I could ... and it would greatly amuse me ...

Goodbye August, Hello September

Try to remember the kind of September

When life was slow, and oh so mellow.

Try to remember the kind of September

When grass was green and grain was yellow.

--  partial lyrics, "Try to Remember," written by

Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones

Today's Think Write Thursday topic is "Hello September."  

Hello, September (on the last day of August) - as usual, I'm glad to see you.  But you also make me feel somewhat introspective when you show up every year.  I guess you never really stop thinking of September as a start, no matter how long you've been out of school.

September means (at least meteorologically) that summer is over.  I'm OK with that, since summer is not a fave of mine.  I do have to say that this summer was not as terrible as some of the previous have been.  The heat and humidity was not constant, so functioning and breathing was much simpler than it usually is.

However, at the beginning of summer we still had our sweet Jetsam, and now we don't.  Last summer I felt the same way about losing Dug the Doodle Dog.  But, time to start this September in a new way.

I like the way the light changes in September.  Even on my desk at work, there is suddenly a little sliver of sunlight on the corner that does not appear throughout the summer months.  

The trees start thinking about what is to come, and how to change their behavior.

Afternoon light dims a bit sooner.

And we are reminded that fall is on its way, by crisp mornings, fall sunsets, and new routines.

In September, I take stock of things for myself.  (I don't necessarily take any immediate action, I just take stock ...)

I do a lot of remembering.  People. places, experiences.  

I  know September means that we are in the last parts of any given year - perhaps some lost opportunities, but new possibilities too.

And always - a new notebook.  Some things never change.

(photos are from our September trip in 2016 to Acadia National Park in Maine)

So ... We Arrive at August

For today's Think Write Thursday, Carole and Kat provided the prompt "Hello, August."

So hello, August.  Like all other things, you arrive every year, regardless of whether or not I am ready, happy, or whatever.  And that is a good thing.  It means *I'm* still here to say, "Wow, it's already August."

Like all months, you have things I like and things I don't.  I used to dread you as a kid, since you meant school started again soon.  But I also liked you, because you were usually the month we went on vacation.

Right now, I guess you are OK.  I'm not happy about the fact that at least around here, you are still pretty hot and humid.  But I am happy that your arrival means that end of that is coming.  You are the month when the farmers' market has a lot that I look forward to seeing in abundance: tomatoes, corn, peaches, and early apples.  So I enjoy that about you, I think more than anything else.

I'm not pleased that I fell yesterday and really messed up my right hand/wrist and knee - nothing really drastic, just painful, uncomfortable, and not pretty.  At least I'm left-handed though, so I can still do most things pain-free.  And I know I didn't fall because it was August, so I'm not blaming you for that.  :-)

I did remember the #augustbreak2017, albeit a few days late, so that is definitely a good thing.  (Though I posted tomorrow's prompt today.  Sigh.)  I particpated last year, and enjoyed it quite a bit.  I like Instagram a lot, and it is fun to have the various prompts.  So thanks for that one!

I hope to spend most of your month trying to remember to live in the moment, enjoy my life, and be as happy as I can be.  So I think it will be OK, you know?

Having said that - if you wanted to cool down weather-wise, that would be great ...

June - Oh!

Well, hello there, June.  I must admit to being somewhat ambivalent about you.  This is kind of a tough time of year for us, that end-of-May/June period.  There are many sad memories that come up during this time.  And, to be perfectly frank, though others are thrilled that it's "officially summer" once you arrive, that's one of the things that depresses me.  I don't go to school anymore, so I can't look forward to June being the month that the school year ends, and I'm not a fan of the summer.  So you can see how I am conflicted.

However, in songs, you are always teamed up with the moon, and wanting to spoon ... and you are busting out all over - and that's both entertaining and catchy.

But there are also things that I actually do like about you, that mean I enjoy your arrival.

Rita's!  Yes, I know I can go there before June 1, but Memorial Day/beginning of June usually sees our first visit.  We were planning to go the last couple of evenings, but other things got in the way, so I know for sure we'll make the first of many trips this weekend.

Flag Day is a day I like, because I enjoy seeing the flags waving around, and I also like red, white, and blue together.

Bloomsday is the best, because it's not just a fun day around here, but it's also the birthday and name inspiration for our very first kitty after we got married - Molly Bloom!  We always told her she was "the original and still the best" and that holds true forever.  When we moved to Philadelphia, I used to take her in her carrier to listen to some of Ulysses being read at the Rosenbach, since it is close to our house.  She enjoyed having people come to see her, and was always quite pleased with the attention.  This year, we'll have some company for the weekend, so that should be a lot of fun.

I'm looking forward to day trips to the shore, and saying hello to the ocean and relaxing.

I can't wait to go again to Smitty's Clam Bar in Somers Point, NJ - we were there last year for the first time, and it was AMAZING!  Since it's only open during "beach season" it's a special treat.

Since the garden is fixed up - should you decide June, to not immediately be too hot and humid - we can sit out there and enjoy it.  Especially on weekends, I'll be able to sit and knit or read, or whatever I feel like doing.  And we can have some meals out there too, which I find way more exciting than I should, but there you go.

Speaking of the garden, some flowers and herbs can be planted, so that it's an even better and happier place to be.

So you see, there's a lot of potential there.  I hope that you'll be more amenable, especially weather-wise.  :-)

*****

I'm joining everyone at Think Write Thursday today.   (And putting June on notice!)

Again - For the First Time

Today's topic for Think Write Thursday is to talk about a book you wish you could read again for the first time.  This was a hard one, since so many books would fall into that category for me.  So I went to one of my earliest, most favorite books, even finding an image of the edition I owned!

I was a kid whose parents were older when I was born, and whose sisters were quite a bit older than I was.  There were few if any "children's books" in our house, and as a result, I have either never read most of the children's classics, or I have read them later, as an adult.

But the year that I was in the second grade, I received the book above for Christmas, from my parents.  It was so thick, which seemed promising, since I was already longing for books that lasted longer.  And the cover was so intriguing - who were those people?  What had they done to deserve such a lovely-looking book?

And then I read it.  And LOVED it.  And found out that girls could be the heroes of their own lives, even as adults. I learned that death happens, and people move on.  I learned that liking to read and write was OK.  I learned that every book doesn't have the ending I want it to have.  And I learned that you could read a book and then want to find out about the author as well.

We moved around a lot, and often I barely knew the kids in my class before we moved again.  But I had made fast friends with Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy.  They didn't need outside friends to have a happy, fun life.  They had different personalities, but it was OK.

Was I disappointed when Jo ended up with Professor Bhaer?  Well, yeah.  But it was another case of having a story be told in a different way than I was used to reading it.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott really opened my eyes to so many things,  And when a book like that finds you in the second grade, the rest of your life can only be full of other such wonderful reading possibilities.

Hello April

To what purpose, April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough.

You can no longer quiet me with the redness

Of little leaves opening stickily.

I know what I know.

The sun is hot on my neck as I observe

The spikes of the crocus.

The smell of the earth is good.

It is apparent there is no death.

But what does that signify?

Not only under ground are the brains of men

Eaten by maggots.

Life in itself

Is nothing,

An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,

April

Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

--"Spring" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Don't Drive Angry, Phil

Happy Groundhog Day!  I love Groundhog Day, the event and the movie.

Everyone always gets so worked up about Punxsutawney Phil, but I find it highly amusing.  I feel sorry for Phil when the "town fathers" pull him out of his space and hold him above the crowd, but otherwise I like the idea of Phil, and the idea that he can predict the weather.

As for the movie, the incredible ridiculousness of it pleases me.  I guess it also helps that I like Bill Murray ... and because I think we all know someone like Ned Ryerson.  Right? Right?

But anyway, moving on, today is Think Write Thursday, and the topic is Hello, February.

So - Hello, February!  I am happy to see you, because of things that happen during the month, and because of hopes I have for what could happen.

I know a lot of people whine about Valentine's Day, but I love it!  Growing up, it was always a big deal in our house, not as the lovey-dovey kind of thing, but to let friends and family know yow were thinking of them.  And currently, not only is it Valentine's Day, but it's also the birthdays of Jetsam and Pip, so even more reason to celebrate.

And then, it's always nice to have a long weekend from work because of Presidents' Day.  :-)

I like that February is different, because it has fewer days than other months.  It's distinctive that way.

I am *hoping* that when I go to my dr's appt on February 10, that I will find out that my ankle is healing the way it is supposed to, and that I can soon get rid of the cast.

I am looking forward to going to "Alan Cumming Sings Sappy Songs" at the Kimmel Center here.  The tickets were one of my Christmas presents, and I think it will be fun.  We both really like Alan Cumming, and I think we'll have a good time.

And I am looking forward to more cozy days, when I can be at home and knitting, reading, or whatever else I feel like doing.  I like this time of year even though most people just want to get past it.

February, since January ended up being a bust for me, I'm hoping I can feel like I'm getting a good start with you.  I have some goals for the year I'm hoping to organize, so that I can actually work on them, and I'm hoping that even if the state of the government doesn't improve, that I'll be better able to deal with it and still take care of myself.

I'm glad to see you.  :-)

We'll Take a Cup of Kindness Yet ...

For this week's Think Write Thursday, Carole and Kat asked us to write about New Year's Eve - like or not? Celebrate or not? Musings?

I'm one of those people who enjoys New Year's Eve.  The only time I haven't enjoyed it was the year in high school when I babysat for a couple on New Year's Eve.  First of all, I wasn't really into babysitting. Secondly, they didn't get home until 3:00 a.m. and then they were still drunk.  Fortunately, I lived two blocks away so I didn't have to be driven home.

But I digress.

I've never been one for big parties, though I would have liked going to New Year's Eve in Times Square before that got ruined by TV "events."  Growing up, my parents were either home and had people over to play cards, or they went to friends' homes to do the same.  I used to like staying up and watching the ball drop, and thinking "Wow, it's another year."  I have to admit that the idea still kinda amazes me.

But our New Year's Eve is lovely, if what others might think of as boring.  The Tim usually has to work, but fortunately the bookstore closes about 6 p.m.  So we usually go out to dinner somewhere in the neighborhood, and then come home for the rest of the evening.  Around 10:30, we get the treats ready - always a Christmas cheeseball, often some steamed shrimp, and whatever else appeals at the time - and the champagne.  At about 11:55, we toast away the old year.  Then we watch the ball drop, have our little family "Happy New Year" exclamations and kisses, and have more champagne.

And we are generally in bed no later than 12:30 a.m.

New Year's Eve does make me nostalgic, though.  I miss family members, places, and things.  I feel sad that another year has passed and will never be again.

But in the end, if I am able to celebrate New Year's Eve and New Year's, it means I've made it.  And though every year has it's goods, bad, and uglies, I'd still rather be here than not.

Homemade Noodles

This post is actually related to two things I participate in:

Carole and Kat's Think Write Thursday, and Sprite's Virtual Advent Tour.  And as it so happened, both asked us to write about our favorite holiday tradition.  I have thought long and hard about this, and I cannot choose just one, or even decide if it's more favorite than another.  Instead, I've decided to write about something *related* to a holiday tradition in my family.

Our big Christmas meal was always on Christmas Eve.  This was largely because my parents were incredibly social, so Christmas Day, after church, we'd be lucky if we ever got near a meal, between people stopping to visit us, and us visiting others.  So about the time I was 8 years old, my parents decreed that our big family meal would be on Christmas Eve.

Something to keep in mind is that it was seldom ever just our immediate family.  There were always extra people, friends of my parents who might not have anywhere to be, friends of my sisters who weren't going home for Christmas, orphans from the orphanage where my great-aunt (one of the nuns previously written about) who had no where to go, and I don't know ... just others.

Also, my parents tended to go all out at Christmas.  We were relatively poor, but they would take money out of their savings, and use credit for Christmas - both for foods and for gifts.

So that's the background.

One year, my father realized that his Uncle Bill and Aunt Viola would be alone at Christmas for the first time, as both of their adult daughters had found jobs in California and wouldn't be able to travel home.  They didn't make plans to go to California, because according to my father, Uncle Bill was "so cheap he would not pay a nickel to see Christ jump off the cross."  (Yeah, I know.)  So my parents decided to invite them for Christmas Eve dinner.  When my mother called to invite them, she told Aunt Viola to feel free to bring anything that was something they generally had for Christmas dinner, and it would be included.  Aunt Viola said that she would bring homemade noodles, because they were "Bill Arthurs' favorite."*

Aunt Viola was a good cook (or, as my father said, "Does it just seem that way because you never get enough to eat at their house?"), and the idea of homemade noodles was exciting to all of us, particularly since my mother never really made homemade anything.  So we were all looking forward to trying them.

Fast forward to Christmas Eve dinner.  Everyone is there, and the table is COVERED with food of all kinds.  There's talking, laughing, drinking, eating, and at some point during the meal, Aunt Viola asked my mother about the noodles.  My mother responded in a surprised and contrite fashion, saying that with all the people and all the food, she forgot to fix them.  Disappointing to be sure, but it's not like anyone was going to go away hungry.

Only after every single person but our immediate family had gone, did we learn the truth.  Aunt Viola arrived with a small baggie of homemade noodles - enough for a serving for Uncle Bill!  My parents said there was no way in the world (well, they said it more colorfully) that they were going to cook a single serving of something for one person.  My father claimed this was further proof of their cheapness.  My mother pointed out to us that, "Well, it *is* your father's family."**

So we never did get the homemade noodles.  But to this day, whenever we eat our Christmas meal, I think about those homemade noodles, which have become holiday legend in our family.  We'll sit down to eat, and even The Tim will say, "Oh, I forgot to cook the homemade noodles!"

The Tim and I have a tradition of a special Christmas Eve meal, and then a special Christmas Day meal.

But sadly, neither includes homemade noodles in any amount ...


*Our last name was Arthur.  However, Aunt Viola always referred to Uncle Bill as "Bill Arthurs."

**My mother was from a small family, and had cousins rather than siblings.  So she enjoyed pointing out to us the failings of my father's family.  :-)


P.S. If you want to sign up for the Virtual Advent Tour, go here.   It's fun and there are still some slots left!

And December Is Beginning

Well, we've arrived.  Today is December, which means that 2016 only has a few weeks left.

It's also Think Write Thursday, and today, Carole and Kat have given us the topic "Hello, December."

******

Hello, December ~ I hope you know how glad I am to see you, but also how bittersweet you are to me.

I love it when you show up, because Christmastime is one of my favorite times of all.  Unlike most people I know, I don't find the season stressful or annoying.  Rather, I look forward to the decorations, the music, the feeling of anticipation, and the fun of making or buying gifts for people.

I love it when you are cold, because to me, December is supposed to be cold.  I love that you are dark, because it makes the lights of the season and the idea of the Winter Solstice seem more special and beautiful.  I wish you would be at least a little bit snowy, but that seems to be something only in my childhood memories most of the time now.

I think you like showing up and making people pay attention.  Even those who do not celebrate any holiday realize that it might be time to wrap up some plans, and/or start thinking ahead to what will be next.  It's hard to travel through December and not notice something!

Then again, I think of my mother's birthday on December 2, and how we would ease into Christmastime between Thanksgiving and then, and then afterwards, it was full speed ahead.  I remember what fun it would be to make sure that she had a birthday, and not a Christmas/birthday combination.

My father LOVED Christmastime, and is most likely the person who passed that love on to me.  He'd be so busy with decorations, and cooking, and wrapping gifts.  And he'd always ask us if we didn't think he sounded just like Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby when he'd sing Christmas carols (the answer, in cas.e you are wondering, was always "no").

All the Christmases we would all be together, in one place all at once, having so much fun celebrating and catching up with each other, and all of the nieces and nephews having a chance to get to know each other and having such fun waiting for Santa.

And most recently of all, my favorite recent tradition on Christmas Eve.  Since The Tim always has to work, I'd put Dug's reindeer antlers and jingle bell collar on him, and we would take a Christmas Eve afternoon walk through Rittenhouse Square.  People couldn't help but smile, and some people would want to take his picture, or have their picture taken with him.  He loved the attention.  And I always told him that if he made people smile, even just for a minute, he'd given them one of the best Christmas presents ever.  It's gonna be really hard this year when that won't be able to happen.

But you know what?  It will be OK, because a good Christmas is about love.  And even if it can't be the same as it always was, or recently was, your memories make it sweeter.  You still have the love for those not here, and you can't lose that, any time of year.

So December, thanks for showing up, especially this year, which has been a tough one.  And I'm counting on you to make it worth going through the rest of it.  I have The Tim, Jetsam, Pip, and Milo ... and this year, Jack, who has no idea what December or Christmas or Santa or even sadness is!   Let's make the most of it, so that by the time 2017 pushes it's way in, we'll be able to say that you gave us a good ending, and we did the best with what we had.

Thanks for showing up. I plan to enjoy you as much as I possibly can,  'cause I look forward to seeing you every year,  And regardless of what else has been happening, I'm not willing to give up on that.

Everything's Coming Up Stuffing!

Today, Carole and Kat wanted us to talk about a recipe we love, and if it could be tied to Thanksgiving and/or a special memory, all the better.

Thanksgiving is a week from today - only a week!  Hooray, hooray, hooray, I love Thanksgiving so very much!  It's cozy, it's happy, it's relaxing, and it's food-related which to be honest all holidays are to me. But, on Thanksgiving, no one cares if things are food-centric which makes it even better. :-)

For the past week or so, I have already been thinking about STUFFING!  I don't care if you call it dressing instead of stuffing, but I DO care if you don't have it and you invite me for Thanksgiving ...

When we used to eat meat, I did enjoy the turkey, the leftover turkey for sandwiches, etc.  And I've never met a Thanksgiving side dish I couldn't make friends with, but for me the biggest and best thing in the meal has always been stuffing.  I think it was because when I was growing up, it was such a long and drawn-out process (still is, actually in our house), and it involved getting to spend time with my dad, driving him nuts helping.  He was always in charge of holiday meals, and they were always very involved, and I trailed him like a wanted criminal used to love being part of it.

And yes, I do know that you a) you can actually make stuffing any time of year, and b) you can even purchase already-made stuffing, some of it pretty decent.  But at Thanksgiving, I only want REAL stuffing!

As an adult, the thing I find amusing is that it was such a special and tasty thing to me, and what it was/is, the way we make it, is what other people have as the base for their stuffing.  No sausage, no chestnuts, no berries, no oysters, nothing but just:

Day old bread
Butter
Celery
Onions
Mushrooms (if affordable)
Seasonings - sage, thyme, rosemary, pepper, salt (or as we used to have at home, a can of McCormick's spices "Poultry Seasoning" though my dad would still add more of the other stuff)

There's no recipe per se,  But it's still my most favorite thing to eat on Thanksgiving.

And I *always* start thinking about it around Veteran's Day.  And then I can't wait.  :-)

Intersections

Today, two things are intersecting for me:  Think ... Write ... Thursday! and Gratitude Week.

Carole and Kat want us to write about our favorite teacher or a teacher who had a major influence on us.  Michelle is asking us to think of something that irks or annoys us, and find at least one good thing about it.

So ... Nuns.

When I was a kid, nuns were the bane of my existence.  Most of the time, I attended Catholic schools, and back then, most of the teachers were nuns - old school nuns, in habits and with POWER.  And I probably could have dealt with that if my father didn't have two aunts who were nuns - Sister Mary Joseph and Sister Marie Jeannette.

Now, Sister Marie Jeannette was the younger one (meaning we still thought she was old but she was younger than Sister Mary Joseph, who we felt was "mega-old.").  She was the director of a Catholic orphanage, and seemed to genuinely like children.  She was kind, with a sense of humor, and always had a smile.  We didn't get to see her that often though, since she was busy with her work.

Sister Mary Joseph on the other hand, was a retired nurse.  She was the nun of nightmares.  Old, conservative, bossy, and expecting to be kowtowed to.   She felt it was part of her mission in life to visit her nieces and nephews and their children regularly, and would find someone to drive her around to these visits (women we called "The Ideal Parishioner"), which, needless to say, were always drop-ins.  My father would be at work, or out, and she would show up, expecting my mother and all of us to drop everything to visit with her.  My mother - always reminding us that "it's your father's family, you know" - got to the point where she would see a car pull up, see Sister starting to emerge, and yell - "the nuns" - which meant that if at all possible we went out the back door, walked around the block and by the time we got back, Sister and aforementioned Ideal Parishioner would be gone.  Once an unsuspecting boyfriend of one of my sisters was left to deal with her, because he didn't get out in time.

So.  Between Sister Mary Joseph and many of the nuns who taught me in elementary school who were just like her, I had a vendetta against most nuns.

Then I got to high school, where we had a combination of nuns, brothers, and lay teachers.  And in my sophomore year, I took the required Civics class and was assigned to the class taught by Sister Virginia.  At this point, many nuns were no longer wearing their old school habits, and Sister Virginia always wore a white blouse, navy skirt and vest, with a cross necklace, stockings, and sensible shoes.  And none of it was the uber-spongy-polyester that the others favored.  She also had a lovely, short, salt-and-pepper hairstyle and glasses, and always a smile.  She was "old" (meaning, probably ten or more years younger than I am currently), but not old school.

I have always been interested in geography, politics, and government.  Probably because it was discussed a lot at home and we moved around so much.  Sister Virginia rocked Civics class.  We did projects, we held town meetings, we debated issues, we held campaigns and elections, and it was amazing.  She loved what she taught, and clearly loved teaching.  Most students responded well, and engaged in the class enthusiastically.

And so, from Sister Virginia, I learned that a good teacher can make all the difference in the world.  I learned the meaning as well as the responsibilities of good citizenship.  And I learned that NUNS was not always an awful four-letter word.  During college, someone told me that Sister Virginia had died of cancer, and that seemed particularly unfair - as cancer always is.  But when I vote next Tuesday, I know I'll hold a special thought for Sister Virginia in my heart.

Just as a note - since becoming an adult, I realized that part of what possibly made nuns seem so horrible when I was a child was that, like most women, they had few choices for their professions.  They could be nurses or teachers.  I'm guessing there were plenty who had to become teachers and were not fond of teaching and/or children.  Which is a shame.  I know I couldn't have done it, as I am not a good soldier that way.

We have all indeed come a long way.

The Most Important Meal of the Day

Carole and Kat have devised a new weekly project for us - Think ... Write ... Thursday!  They will provide prompts every week, and those who participate give it some thought and write something based on said prompts.  Well, I like to think and I like to write, and I thought it would be fun to give it a try, using someone else's ideas for a topic.

This week, they want us to write about The Best Breakfast I Ever Had.

Hm.  I didn't used to be a big breakfast eater.  As a kid, the only day we ever had what most people would call a proper breakfast was on Sunday, after church.  My dad would make eggs, sausage or bacon, and toast.  Some weeks it would be fried eggs (or as I called them until adulthood, "church eggs") and other weeks it would be scrambled eggs.  It was a big deal, and the only time we ate breakfast as a family.

My mother worked, my father worked, and my sisters and I went to school, all on slightly different schedules.  Once I was old enough to make it for myself (probably third grade), my favorite breakfast was a bowl of this:

I would put soy sauce on it, and along with my cup of tea, I was one happy camper.  This was the only rice we ever had growing up, and I LOVED it!  (Now it makes me gag ...)

I still love a big, yummy weekend breakfast, but am usually not that interested in fixing it just for myself.  And during the week, I generally eat cereal in the summer, and oatmeal in the winter.  Both are quick, filling, and I like them.

The Tim and I have lovely holiday breakfasts, and they are pretty amazing, especially when he makes hash browns!

But I think the best breakfast I ever had was the summer that I was 9 years old, and we were at the Jersey shore for a week of vacation.  My dad did not believe in making reservations, so we stayed at a somewhat sketchy place - but it did have a decent pool, and a reasonable diner attached.  My mother used vacation to sleep late, but my father was an early riser, and would get my sisters and I up every morning bright and early to walk along the beach.  This made my sisters miserable; me, not so much, since I was always sleeping on a terrible cot that was brought to the room, and was usually uncomfortable.

So we had taken our walk on the beach, and we were at the diner, and my father said we could get whatever we wanted for breakfast - we were, after all, on vacation.  I have no memory at all of what my sisters got, but I ordered a Pixie Cup.*

(For the uninitiated, Pixie Cups were small, individual cardboard cups of ice cream with cardboard tops, and little wooden spoon.  When you took off the top, there was a picture of someone famous on the other side (as shown above).  We *never* had Pixie Cups at home, because I'm sure they were not cheap to buy.)

The waitress said, "Oh honey, I don't think you should have ice cream for breakfast," and I was ready to have my soul crushed by this strange woman who wanted to ruin my vacation, when my father said, "I told them they could have whatever they wanted for breakfast.  If she wants and goddamn Pixie Cup, bring it to her."  He didn't say it in a mean way, just very factually.  The waitress was clearly shocked, but took the order, and brought all of our food shortly after.

And I sat there as pleased as I could be, enjoying a Pixie Cup for breakfast.  As I continued to do the entire week we were there.  Because we were on vacation, and my dad said so.  ;-)