I have no memories of celebrating "Mother's Day" for my mother when I was a kid. She got gypped, because her birthday was May 14, and there were no "double celebrations" by us. We weren't much of a party family.
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| My mother and I, a gazillion years ago, in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY |
Actually, I have a vague memory of a disastrous attempt to serve my mother "breakfast in bed," never again attempted.
Maybe that's why the idea of breakfast in bed sort of turns my stomach. I don't understand the attraction. All I can think of is the dirt, the food getting all over the sheet and blanket, which could bring bugs. And then all the extra laundry to clean it up.
Besides the mess that breakfast in bed can easily make, today, as a religious Jew, who makes a point to pray the Shacharit, Morning Prayer, properly dressed each day before eating breakfast, I can't quite figure out the logistics. Am I supposed to change back into pyjamas, and then climb into bed before eating? Trust me. I'm more comfortable sitting at the table.
I have no objection to eating breakfast "out," whether a hotel breakfast, a restaurant or special breakfast with friends. But first I try to at least drink my water plus some coffee, and pray of course.
After that you can serve me.
There wasn't an American style "Mother's Day" here in Israel when my kids lived at home. Now that they're all grown and out of the house, I try to get a bit of quality time with each whenever possible, a lot more frequently than one day a year.
It's strange to think that I'm the matriarch with grown children and grandchildren. My cousins and I are the "older generation." Most of us are older than our grandparents were as we remember them. Actually, I've already lived longer than three of my grandparents. That thought/fact makes me treasure every day Gd gives me, even though my parents lived much longer.
I enjoy the blessing of health and being able to get out of bed each morning and starting the day admiring the sunrise, drinking lemon water, then coffee.
Breakfast is for later and never in bed.
cold rainy Thursday
Most days I still manage a haiku about my morning coffee. If you're on facebook, you can join the conversation and even reply in haiku form, 5, 7, 5 syllables.
Here are a vew of my recent ones plus photos.
In Jerusalem
dark sky strong coffee
coffee with goat milk
Bright morning coffee
Enjoying coffee
#morningcoffeehaiku
One needs patience, a timer or some sort of busy routine when making coffee in a French Press. There's the first step when you pour boiling water over the coarsely ground coffee. It must sit and soak and brew for a few minutes. Some say four minutes, but I don't time it. I've just developed a routine that uses time. I take pictures of the sunrise or however the sky looks for my #morningcoffeehaiku on Facebook. I also get the sugar and milk ready.
