Signs of Spring and Sunday Brunch
Like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the robins have returned to my little area. My cats are having a field day watching them peck at the morning grass from the safety of a window ledge.
On a gorgeously clear Sunday, like today, the motorcycle brigade roars down Main Street off to some point in the mountains. Over the low rumble of engines, church bells call their congregations inside their stained glass houses.
Inside my late Victorian, butter bubbles brown in a pan over a low flame. The robust aroma of coffee permeates the kitchen before escaping down the hall. Ham is sliced off the bone waiting to be reheated in a pan. Eggs, fresh from the farm, are cracked into the bubbling butter.
My family and I sit around the table to eat. Soft butter melts into toasted bread while the pulp floats on top of the orange juice. My dad and brother crack open the egg white allowing the golden yellow yolk to run all over their plates. My mom and I savor well fried ham slices as well as solid eggs through and through. The dogs congregate around the table just to be with us. Over our large meal, we discuss springtime projects.
When will it get warm enough to paint the kitchen cabinets? The first of our seeds will be planted after the rain tomorrow and the next day. Then, we can liberate the grills from storage under the house. And even though it is a month away, we start contemplating Easter dinner. What fun we have.
I revel in the change of the seasons and all the little things they bring. And yes, I know that the seasons change every year. That doesn't deter me. I enjoy noticing all these things. Besides, each year they are different, even if only slightly. The key is to know where to look.
On a gorgeously clear Sunday, like today, the motorcycle brigade roars down Main Street off to some point in the mountains. Over the low rumble of engines, church bells call their congregations inside their stained glass houses.
Inside my late Victorian, butter bubbles brown in a pan over a low flame. The robust aroma of coffee permeates the kitchen before escaping down the hall. Ham is sliced off the bone waiting to be reheated in a pan. Eggs, fresh from the farm, are cracked into the bubbling butter.
My family and I sit around the table to eat. Soft butter melts into toasted bread while the pulp floats on top of the orange juice. My dad and brother crack open the egg white allowing the golden yellow yolk to run all over their plates. My mom and I savor well fried ham slices as well as solid eggs through and through. The dogs congregate around the table just to be with us. Over our large meal, we discuss springtime projects.
When will it get warm enough to paint the kitchen cabinets? The first of our seeds will be planted after the rain tomorrow and the next day. Then, we can liberate the grills from storage under the house. And even though it is a month away, we start contemplating Easter dinner. What fun we have.
I revel in the change of the seasons and all the little things they bring. And yes, I know that the seasons change every year. That doesn't deter me. I enjoy noticing all these things. Besides, each year they are different, even if only slightly. The key is to know where to look.
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