(no subject)
The facts were these that when it came to comfort foods after days of binge eating in the name of holiday spirit there was something quite satisfactory about the art of fried egg-coated toast. It was not exactly a gourmet food nor an exact delicacy or science, but it tasted good and Charlotte Charles had long ago decided that it was fun to make. Naturally on the last Saturday morning of the month, she rose like she did every Saturday to make something she found comforting and warm, much like a pair of overworn and darned socks.
Dipping bits of bread in scrambled egg and goats milk combined in a runny mixture (with just a dash of cinnamon for spice), she dropped them onto the skillet and watched them merrily crackle and snap as they fried before flipping them over. With the oven on warm, she put the quickly growing stack in there to keep nice and toasty while she waited for both people to wake up and for everything else to be ready. The sweet spot hidden inside her that enjoyed mornings and routines decided that while it might not be any feat like baking a fleet of pies, it certainly was not boring.
Seated on the counter across from the stove with a spatula in hand and a smile on her face, the girl named Chuck decided that this was truly a sign that she had found her home and that there was nothing wrong with that.
[[saturday morning meal post (albeit posted a little early). gathering style. tag chuck, tag each, but mostly have fun]]
Dipping bits of bread in scrambled egg and goats milk combined in a runny mixture (with just a dash of cinnamon for spice), she dropped them onto the skillet and watched them merrily crackle and snap as they fried before flipping them over. With the oven on warm, she put the quickly growing stack in there to keep nice and toasty while she waited for both people to wake up and for everything else to be ready. The sweet spot hidden inside her that enjoyed mornings and routines decided that while it might not be any feat like baking a fleet of pies, it certainly was not boring.
Seated on the counter across from the stove with a spatula in hand and a smile on her face, the girl named Chuck decided that this was truly a sign that she had found her home and that there was nothing wrong with that.
[[saturday morning meal post (albeit posted a little early). gathering style. tag chuck, tag each, but mostly have fun]]