Your stomach growls.
You head to the fridge.
Your eyes start at the top shelf and work down.
And there, THERE, sitting on the bottom shelf, is a Red Velvet Cake.
(Apparently delivered by your Daughter overnight.)
What is Bliss?
Cake.
Cake for Breakfast.
Breakfast is served!
Breakfast. Bird catches Fish. Crab holding on to the fish tail. Double Jeopardy! September 12, 2020. 5:35 & 5:45 am. 60° F. Winds: Gusty. The Cove, Stamford, CT
Notes:
Credit: The Inspired Home: 29 Fancy Grill Cheese For the Ultimate Cheesiest Meal Ever (via Your Eyes Blaze Out)
A pelican caught a fish during feeding time in St. James’s Park in London Wednesday. (Photo: Hannah McKay, wsj.com August 23, 2019)
In a system as perfect as this, you only have to be deprived of breakfast to become unpredictable.
–Jean Baudrillard, from “Cool Memories II, 1987-1990”
Notes: Quote via finita–la–commedia. Photo: Count Gracula by ostdrossel.com. What a Grackle?
Things were better at home when a chicken roasted in the oven or eggs cooked in a hot buttered pan… Cooking was a meditation, I thought. It anchored me in my body—here was my hand, holding a knife, slicing through celery. Here I was, standing on the black and white kitchen tile of my first apartment in Brooklyn, listening to records, making dinner. Here I was, I thought, living.
~ Sarah McColl, “Joy Enough: A Memoir.” (January, 2019)
Notes: Image: Better Homes & Gardens – Perfect Fried Eggs. Prior Sarah McColl posts
First day back after 2 weeks off…Sunny side up and Easy, way over easy…
Photo: Slowdown Studio (via Swiss-miss)
The next morning I woke up at five thirty…It was still pitch dark outside. After a simple breakfast in the kitchen I changed into work clothes and went into the studio. As the eastern sky grew brighter, I switched off the light, threw open the window, and let chilly, fresh morning air into the room. I took out a fresh canvas and set it on the easel. The chirping of birds filtered in through the open window. The rain during the night had thoroughly soaked the trees. The rain had stopped just a while before, bright gaps in the clouds showing. I sat down on the stool, and, sipping hot black coffee from a mug, stared at the empty canvas before me.
~ Haruki Murakami, Killing Commendatore: A Novel (October, 2018)
Photo: Reddit
