Every Saturday or Sunday (depending on the weather), Yarn Widower wakes up at 5A so he can get in 18 holes with his golf buddies. Yes, dear readers, I am a golf widow.
Which is just fine with me. I sleep in, read the paper and knit while I watch CBS Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood. For breakfast I help myself to whatever leftovers are in the fridge or if I'm feeling particularly motivated, I'll juice some veggies and sip that instead of tea.
Last week, Yarn Widower asked me if it was okay for him to golf both days. He tells his golf buddies that he has to run everything by the Boss. (He means me, not Bruce Springsteen). I say sure. But apparently I don't protest enough because Yarn Widower feels hurt that I don't want to spend time with him. So, for the record, boo to golf! Give me back my Yarn Widower! I demand the return of my weekend breakfasts.
Speaking of which, Yarn Widower makes great pancakes. Here's a play-by-play.
Prep work is essential. Mise en place, bitches!
The fruit du jour - peaches.
A man and his cast iron griddle.
Nom nom nom nom.