Upon rising with the &^%$#@% rooster (hereafter known as 'Mr. Stew') I set the coffee to brew and looked over breakfast possibilities. For a change, I am not planning the school day as I stumble about my normal morning activities.
On the counter, resting together as if I had this planned, were two large potatoes and a big sweet Vidalia onion. Five minutes later they were diced wide and gently heating in a cast iron skillet liberally treated with butter and Montreal steak seasoning. The smell wafting through our home is intoxicating...........
This morning, over coffee, I raise my thoughts to family who served. My father, Air Force, serviced machine guns on planes through WWII. He never really spoke much of his service, although he could not near an airport without setting off every metal detector in the place. Something about pins in his legs, and a German machine gunner. My brother, also Air Force, served through the cold war on air bases all over the world. A master machinist and all round excellent mechanic... and machines liked him. To their spirits I offer thanks, that I now have a peaceful morning to enjoy my coffee and home fries. They earned what I now enjoy, and gave it as a gift.