I began my last day at sea by going out on deck to watch the sun come up over the horizon. On a clear day it can be quite dramatic, but the skies this morning were far from clear. Thanks to a short break in the clouds the sun eventually made a brief appearance before disappearing once again
I then went back to the room where Becky was trying to catch a little extra sleep before our room service coffee arrived.
After coffee we went down to the last seaday brunch of the cruise. I had my favorite flamin’ tomato soup and Becky got a collection of fruits stacked as if they were Lego blocks.
For my main course I had a filet mignon with eggs, home fries and a grilled tomato. The presentation of the food was really neat. Every item on the plate rested upon some kind of throne.
The steak sat on top of a bed of steamed spinach, the eggs on a platform of thinly sliced grilled potatoes, and the tomato was on a toasted wedge of French bread. The home fries, presented in a paper cone, towered above the rest of the breakfast.
I can’t neglect to mention the bernaise sauce even though I don’t really know what to do with. (Becky and I grew up with mommas making skillet gravy twice a week.)
I love tomatoes in almost any form except chopped half and grilled. I have no idea what the green stuff is on top of the tomato, but it reminds me of the the heavy pollen that came from the ramshackled Chinaberry trees that accidently dotted our lower middle class neighborhood when I was growing up.
Heavy green pollen on a cold wrinkled fruit is not a very appealing notion, so the tomato was never dislodged its toasty perch.
Becky and I first had steak and eggs in 1980 for our first breakfast as husband and wife.
It would be something like 20 years before we had it again. When you marry at the ages of 20 and 19 respectively and live on a single meager paycheck, steak is not something you bother thinking about.
Once our kids started arriving any money that could have gone to steak breakfasts went to buying diapers and jars of Gerber baby food.
Not that we particularly cared. A stack of my homemade pancakes covered in something we called butter and a good dollop of ultra cheap Blackburn syrup was all we needed.
It’s very nice to be able to live a life of relative luxury and leisure for a week, and it was sorely needed after the marathon rat race that is the school year.
Yes, this trip has been nice, but the simple life in our family home is a big and very appealing treat about now.