Blog Traffic Jam, Part 1 of 5: Father Knows Breakfast

I haven't blogged in five days, so, as if to match with the time I've missed, I've built up five new entries concerning that stretch. The first one appears below; the other four, which will cover the first three weeks of my internship, my experience with pizza, maintaining my tourist side, and today's trip to Canterbury and Dover, will follow in the next day or so.

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Thank you, Dad.

Now, that's a pretty blanket statement. "Of course you're thankful for your father," you say. "What for?" I respond with an acknowledgment of his teaching me to love sports & work, his pushing me to be an Eagle Scout, and his dedication to his family. But I add one more critical thing that has come in handy over the weekends here:

Thank you, Dad, for breakfast.

Thank you for starting most weekend mornings with the smell of bacon and eggs, that I may learn to love waking up to such sweet nose-ticklers. Thank you for making the bacon and eggs so well that I regret eating them in less than five minutes. Thank you most especially for teaching me, after you had considered me worthy and able, to cook the bacon and eggs. I've made them every weekend morning here in London, and because I will always associate home with a good breakfast, those mornings bring back memories of Eagle Meadow Drive like none other. I haven't been pining for a return to the States because I haven't been homesick, but when the need comes of a small taste of home, those breakfasts hit the spot. (And my flatmates like the smell, too!)

Thank you. Very much. And yum.