I was making breakfast for Mike and I the other morning (Wheat and Honey pancakes, 2 tbsp of lite syrup and 2 pieces of Turkey bacon- 3.5 points) and I my senses were assailed with familiar memories of my grandfather. For anyone who knew my grandfather, they would agree that he was a man of purpose and accomplishment. He worked harder than anyone I know and could build something out of nothing without blinking twice. I can attribute so many of my happy childhood memories to him. He had this way about him when he cooked breakfast. "Get out of my kitchen" he would tell us (grandkids). In one breakfast he would fix bacon, sausage, eggs, flapjacks, biscuits and gravy (especially those) and it all simmered in the leftover bacon grease that lived in the cast iron skillet that was older than me. Well, when I made breakfast for Mike and me the other morning, I felt like I was back in his kitchen, waiting patiently for breakfast (well, let's not kid- I'm rarely patient).
Here are a few pictures to capture some moments we spent together:
Who knows what we were pointing to
That's my teething ring on my head
Every year we carved pumpkins together
The glare is from the sheet protector
It was a sweet memory that came back to me Wednesday morning.
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