Wordless Wednesday: The Weekend Breakfast Routine

 “All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.” – John Gunther

Florentine Breakfast Entertainment: Variations on a Theme

I had an American breakfast of eggs and toast twice while in Italy. On one occasion, I was at a table in front of a window through which I could do people watching. I found it interesting because some people walked past on the sidewalk nearest to me, some across the street, some went by on bikes or in cars or trucks and some on motorbikes. When I finished my breakfast I took photos for a bit, snapping the shutter each time a moving object entered my "window on the world." Here are the photos.

Whether people watching or simply engaging in your surroundings,

open your eyes and enjoy life's seemingly endless reality show.

The Breaking Point (Part 3)

SHORT STORY MONDAY

The Breaking Point
(Part Three)

Monday. Cassie's birthday. Carl was gone with the dawn, like those vampires of old who disappear with the break of day. It was impossible, of course, for Cassie to sleep in, and she immediately went down to make coffee after hearing his pickup pull out the drive.

"What are you doing up, Mom?"

After exploring for a minute -- in the living room, then the kitchen and all the closets, yawning and bleary-eyed, pushing back the curtain of sleep -- she began wondering the same thing. How could she explain that she was looking for, expecting, something special; like maybe a banner? a card? a signal of remembrance? ...that it was her birthday.

Hasn't your dad told you it's my birthday? Are you playing a game with me? Is this charade going to last all day? She was quickly in a frump.

"Mom, can Rick come over today?"

"Why don't you go to Rick's house?"

"Rick's mother is kind of mean sometimes."

"That's not very nice," she said carefully. She was glad her kids' friends didn't feel that way about her. "Your friends can come over, but only if you play out in the yard today"

"Thanks, mom"

Noon. No special calls. No flowers. No mention of anything from anyone.

Two o'clock. Call from sister Val. "Did you see As the World Turns?"

"This old TV set is practically --"

"Oh, Happy Birthday!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, what's up?" Val had already expected the worst; never did trust Carl; called him Carl the Cad when Cassie first met him years earlier.

Cassie was confused. "I don't know." She wanted to tell Val she'd been crying. "I feel like such a heel. Here it's my birthday, and Carl's probably surprising me with this nice present and I'm all peeved because I think he's forgotten. It's like I have this dread he's forgotten my birthday and I can't explain this damned receipt from Montgomery Wards."

"Give it time, sweets. He's probably trying to build some excitement for you." Val's attempt to sound sincere was taken at face value. Cassie was looking for even the least shred of comfort and Val was not about to dish out her own unpalatable interpretation of Carl's actions.

"Thanks, sis." Cassie said, and then, "Thad's outside crying about something. Gotta run."

~~~

Five o'clock, Carl walks into the kitchen, sees Cassie leaning on the counter, staring out the window; she hesitates, then turns and studies him. Come over here you big sweet lovable jerk, she wants to say, but the words don't come; she's holding out limp hands, but it's only a half-hearted gesture of invitation, and he fails to notice its significance, peeling off his shoes and kicking them into a corner.

"What's up, hon? No dinner tonight?"

You're just putting me on, right, big guy? "You don't have to play with me, Carl. I already know. I just can't stand having to wait any longer and--"

"Know about what?" Carl pulled back his head a notch as if peering through the lower lenses of a pair of bifocals, his chin jutting out, lips parted slightly.

"You know," she said hopefully.

"Hey, really, I'm lost. I mean I am toe-tally in the dark. So where's the eats? You gonna starve the kids, too, or what?"

"I'll pick something up at MacDonald's while you take a shower."

"Like what's the occasion?" Then he covered his face with his hand and mumbled, "Oh shit."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry. Today's your birthday! Where do you want to go? God, I don't know where my head is at sometimes." It was a tradition of theirs to take each other out to eat on their birthdays.

Cassie turned away and looked out the window again. For what seemed like a very long time she watched her son romping in the back yard with a soccer ball. Carl stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen. He knew Cassie well enough to know this wasn't a time to leave. She's unpredictable, that's certain. He was stupid to be so forgetful; that was certain, too.

Without speaking, Cassie grabs her purse and shoves her hand into the middle of it, feeling around for a thin piece of paper which she has kept folded in her checkbook. She pivots to face her husband and holds out the bill. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Hey, cool your jets," Carl says, stepping forward to examine the paper she’s holding out to him. He sees the Montgomery Wards logo on the bottom and says, "It looks like a bill."

"Know what it's for?"

Carl scrunches up his face to read it, shrugs. "How should I know?"

"It's on our account. I didn't buy it." She makes the I emphatic.

"Why would I go out and buy a color TV? We've already got one."

"I just thought--"

"Honest, Cassie, I really don't know what this is about. I'll call the store tomorrow. I'm sure it's some kind of mistake." Trying to smooth things over he says, "Let's try that new place, what's it called? Finnegan's?"

Cassie mutters "Sure, Finnegan's" through clenched teeth and they both go through the motions of letting the mix-up be nothing more than that.

STAY TUNED FOR NEXT WEEK'S FINALE

Swamp Sisters, Revisited

Well gosh, was that ever yummy! If you've never been, you owe it to yourself.

Their story begins in the late nineties when the six Armstrong sisters started talking about opening a shop to sell buffalo meat, which sister Suzi raises about two miles to the east. After a lot of debate, they decided the best location would be the old farm where they grew up. They called themselves the Swamp Sisters because their relatives always joked about their family trying to farm in a swamp.

A special feature of the menu is Bonnie’s Swamp Skillet with buffalo sausage or ham, onions, peppers, mushrooms, tater tots, eggs and cheese, which I should have taken a picture of before I ate it. I have liked these skillets so much I've never ordered anything diff, but I've alreasdy decided I'll do that next time I eat here.

They're only open Fridays and Saturdays from eight till two, so you better skidaddle out there while you can and don't be late, or you're missin' something special.

Occasionally they have too many dang customers, and you have to wait outside in the sun or poke around in the gift shop, which can easily occupy a person for hours with all the interesting gifts, antiques, bison meat, crafts and other goodies they have there.

Whether breakfast or lunch, it’s home cookin’ at its finest, seasoned with warmth and a sense of humor. Be sure to take in the signs. These sisters, and the ever faithful brother, have a wry sense of humor that pervades all they do.

Hope you enjoy these photos I took this morning while enjoying a Half Skillet. And the price is just right... Under five bucks with the orange juice! I always leave a big tip 'cause I have a crush one of the waitresses. (She's my wife.)

Check out the pics here (click images to enlarge) and if you get a chance, as you head north on Hwy. 53 from Duluth, make a left at Twig out County Road 7. Only five minutes further... You will not regret it.

Swamp Sisters Re-Opened for 2008 Season

Anyone looking for a way cool, fun place to catch a breakfast or lunch on Fridays or Saturdays should check out the Swamp Sisters Café & Gift Shop. The restaurant and gift shop, located on 7249 Industrial Road, 4 miles West of Twig, is open from 8:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. from April through mid-November.

A special feature of the menu is Bonnie’s Swamp Skillet with buffalo sausage or ham, onions, peppers, mushrooms, tater tots, eggs and cheese, which I should have taken a picture of before I ate it. (my favorite! yummm!) The lunch fare is equally as exciting. It’s home cookin’ at its finest, seasoned with warmth and a sense of humor.
The gift shop, featuring bison meat, antiques and crafts, serves to occupy the faithful when the dining area is overcrowded. Be sure to take in the signs. These sisters, and the ever faithful brother, have a wry sense of humor that pervades all they do. They named themselves the Swamp Sisters because relatives had joked about their family trying to farm in a swamp.

With no business experience, or business plan, they just plumb opened their doors with good food and Northern Minnesota rural hospitality. It soon became apparent there was a need in the community for a place to gather for coffee, etc. Word got around that the eatin' was good, too, and today they can't keep customers away.

If you see something you like, it just might be for sale. If not, well, the food sure is good anyways. For more information, or to find your way if you get lost, call 729-0088