Month: December 2011

The Breakfast Nook

I have spent the better part of this year in my home office helping organize a fundraiser with my husband. Scary, first time venture that was such a success we are doing it again next year. However my refuge of computer, music, books and view of the front of our property lost it’s hold on me and I have moved to my favorite place in the house. My breakfast table.

The breakfast nook is strategically placed at the back of the house with windows on two sides, to my left and in front of me. The back door has a window insert, providing me with a view of the back yard and woods that make up the three acres of what I loving refer to as Evansridge.

I am easily distracted by the finches and cardinals at the bird feeder and the family of doves that linger below it. The wood’s winter dress is grey, brown and taupe with a very little adornment of green and gold pine needles, that reminds me of a painting of horses in the woods I saw some years ago, in which the painter has hid the forms of the horses in the trunks and branches of the trees…a trick to the eye. What is lingering in my woods? Just the trees, less the adornment of their leaves, which are slowly decomposing into the forest floor, a mulch blanket of sorts.

It is chilly enough that hot beverages are an all day craving, a cafecito or cup of tea, maybe a little amaretto in the coffee in the evening. For now, I am content here, at this moment to write a bit, read and sip on something warm.

<a href="http:// On In Around button“>breakfast nook

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The Terrible Towel and Football Tradition

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I received a call from California on the 19th of December.  My five year old grandson, Dominic was calling me to tell me he was getting ready to go to his first pro football game.  “I am going to be on TV, Grandma” he told me.  ” I am sitting on the top section, so watch me.  Watch TV tonight,” he instructed.  My son was taking his son to see their favorite team, the Pittsburgh Steelers play the hometown favorite, San Francisco 49ers.  In an area in Northern California, where everyone was either a Raider or 49er fan, my son wore gold and black, and so did my grandson.  

The plan was to drive the couple of hours to the Bay Area, get a parking spot, break out the grill and have some hotdogs, hamburgers and brews before they entered the historic Candlestick Park.  The two hour commute stretched into four, and there was no time to prime the grill.  Fortunate for my son and his friends, their neighbors offered their grill and they were able to have their meal before they headed to the gates.

Before they locked the vehicle, my son knelt in front of his son, straightening his knit cap and jacket and handed him his Terrible Towel, looking at him and said “This is your first step in becoming a man”.

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