We decided to allow ourselves a splurge and go out to the local IHop for breakfast. It was a great idea. I looked forward to it. A lot of other people had the same idea and the place was crowded. The service was good. The experience disappointing -- the pancakes were luke warm; the syrup was cold; the egg whites had that stringy, slimy thing in them; the coffee was weak; and the bacon was limp.
It was a good idea. Sometimes good ideas just don't play out the way we envision them. In fact this happens to me altogether too often. Better not to anticipate. Better to just accept what comes. Better yet to make my own pancakes, heat my syrup, crisp my bacon, and make a nice strong cup of coffee -- and stay at home.
Home is my favorite place. It is modest, fairly frugally furnished, comfortable. Comfortable is the main thing. It is my haven, my safe place. I am a bit of a messy housekeeper but I tackled some of that this morning by beginning a clean up campaign. So the IHop experience did not subdue my enthusiasm for the new year. I made an attempt to once again begin writing my morning pages of stream of consciousness. Not very successfully this morning, but at least a beginning.
Beginnings are always hard. Chaim Potak said something like that in one of his novels. Too true. Even if it is a re-beginning. But some things are just worth beginning again.
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