On Sunday John cooked up a French breakfast for us–complete with soft-boiled eggs, freshly-toasted baguette, ham (for the meat eaters) and steamed milk beverages for each member of the family. Really it tasted so much like we were in Paris, I was almost fooled for a moment.
So hats off to French breakfasts–what a pleasant way to start the Sabbath. And, FYI, I think that repeating event on John’s monthly calendar, the one that says “be extra nice to Dilly* this week,” is really paying off.
It’s nice to be so loved.
*Did you know this is John’s nickname for me? If not, you do now. ;)