One of the best things about life in the United States is breakfast.
Normally I eat breakfast at home before dashing out to work. That is not fun.
I had swapped around my week this past week, gave up working Wednesday for a plumber and surrendered to work today, Saturday, instead. As a treat for mmyself I decided o make a trip to the local diner, Perko's for breakfast too.
I walked the couple of miles to the diner in the dark, it took me 45 minutes to tap and shuffle my way across town. I left home a little after 6am and arrived a little before 7am. I was surprised to find the parking lot full, large pick-ups everywhere.
It has been a few years since my visit to Perko's at such an early hour and I had forgotten that farmers breakfast early. The place was full of wide brimmed Stetson's and John Deere baseball caps. Talk at the tables was of rain or lack ofrain and the price of livestock and such worries always sent to try the pockets of the farmer wherever they live.
I just savored the pleasure of this ruitual as I ate my steak, country potatoes and scrambled eggs.
As the sun began to rise over the distant Sierra Nevada. I suddenly felt quite appreciative of what I have. A full stomach, a home and men and women who care about the rain sun and price of livestock.
It is nice to live in this country. Nice to share breakfast at Perko's.
Normally I eat breakfast at home before dashing out to work. That is not fun.
I had swapped around my week this past week, gave up working Wednesday for a plumber and surrendered to work today, Saturday, instead. As a treat for mmyself I decided o make a trip to the local diner, Perko's for breakfast too.
I walked the couple of miles to the diner in the dark, it took me 45 minutes to tap and shuffle my way across town. I left home a little after 6am and arrived a little before 7am. I was surprised to find the parking lot full, large pick-ups everywhere.
It has been a few years since my visit to Perko's at such an early hour and I had forgotten that farmers breakfast early. The place was full of wide brimmed Stetson's and John Deere baseball caps. Talk at the tables was of rain or lack ofrain and the price of livestock and such worries always sent to try the pockets of the farmer wherever they live.
I just savored the pleasure of this ruitual as I ate my steak, country potatoes and scrambled eggs.
As the sun began to rise over the distant Sierra Nevada. I suddenly felt quite appreciative of what I have. A full stomach, a home and men and women who care about the rain sun and price of livestock.
It is nice to live in this country. Nice to share breakfast at Perko's.
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