Crepes with grape jam, peaches, and cream.
But in just this one snap shot of breakfast, I see a bowl from my grandma, a family recipe, and plates from my mother-in-law.
I remember the cold rainy day when those grapes were picked and I wonder how many seeds we’ll find in this jar.
I smell peach juice steaming on the stovetop.
I am sticky from cream that splattered from the mixer.
I see us all in our places: husband with coffee, cat in the sun, naked two-year-old and self-dressed four-year-old.
The day is unfolding just as it should.
How are you spending this last Sunday in August?
