Funny what thoughts pop into your head
Funny what thoughts pop into your head.
Better Half and I were eating dippy eggs and toast last Saturday morning when I started wondering aloud about the incredible, edible egg.
I love breakfast on Saturday and Sunday because they’re designated egg days – leisurely mornings that lend themselves to a meal centered around them vs. Monday through Friday when I just have some yogurt and almonds at my desk at work.
A couple of eggs with some crisp toast to dip in the runny yolk – umm, that’s good eats. Special.
I mentioned this to Better Half, which fed into a deeper discussion about eggs and how did people originally come to discover that, hey, eggs taste pretty good cracked open and cooked.
I’m picturing a moment in history when somebody was carrying some eggs past a fire and tripped. Oops.
Or maybe not such an oops.
Enter trial and error. Boom. Dippy eggs. Boom. Eggs Benedict. Well, something like that.
And how did people figure out to use eggs as an ingredient in baking?
That would have been an experiment better left to others.
I’m glad all these discoveries came in pre-Janice times.
Funny what thoughts pop in your head when you’re eating dippy eggs on a weekend morning.
Or when you’re feeding a couple of hungry horses.
As I was tossing some hay in their stalls the other day, something occurred to me – dinner-challenged wife and mother that I am.
Never once do these horses look at me and complain that they’re getting the same thing to eat again.
Never once do they whine that they just had this to eat the other day or last week.
Can’t you fix anything else?
They are content with status quo on the dinner menu.
Another reason to like horses, I’ve decided.
Funny what thoughts pop in your head when you’re feeding a couple of horses.
I spent a lot of last Saturday plunked on the couch watching television, flipping through the channels and staying warm indoors on one of our few snow days this winter.
I watched about four movies back to back, ironically none of them from the beginning.
That’s because I’d finish watching one and then switch to find another one already in progress. I kept watching anyway and connecting the plot dots.
Better Half checked up on me from time to time to assess my activity or lack thereof.
And to ask if this or that movie was any good.
I said they were all good.
After all, they all had a happy ending.
And then a thought occurred to me.
How about a happy ending to this day?
What a great Saturday to eat out.
Better Half’s treat.
“Egg”-actly the kind of meal I like.