I started off my final day on this floating vacation by wandering out on deck to to catch the sun taking the stage above the sea. Now, on a day clear as a bell, this can be a sight to warm your heart. But, the heavens this morning weren’t lending themselves to any celestial shows. Still, the sun managed appear for a quick bow, thanks to a little break in the cloud cover, before it went back to playing hide and seek.
I strolled back to our cabin where Becky was making the most of our morning lull, snoozing a tad longer before the cabin steward would knock, bringing our much-anticipated morning brew.
Post coffee, we made our way to what would be our last brunch on this seaborne adventure. I had my go-to, a fiery bowl of tomato soup, and Becky selected an assortment of fruits, looking more like a Lego tower than a breakfast plate.
My main meal was a fancy spread – filet mignon, eggs, home fries, and a grilled tomato, each dish placed as if on a pedestal, like a culinary art display.
The steak rested atop a lush pile of steamed spinach, the eggs perched on a raft of thinly sliced grilled potatoes, and the tomato, well, it was elegantly set on a toasted slice of French bread. The home fries were nestled in a paper cone, looking down at the rest of the breakfast spread.
Now, I can’t skip mentioning the bernaise sauce, even though I’m not sure what to do with such a fancy accompaniment. (Becky and I were brought up with good old pan-scraped gravy.
Tomatoes, I love ’em, just not when they’re bisected and given a hot griddle treatment. I’m not even sure what the green garnish on the tomato was, but it took me back to the times of heavy pollen from the scruffy Chinaberry trees sprinkling our modest neighborhood when I was just a kids.
The thought of chunky green pollen on a chill, wrinkled fruit isn’t something to write home about, so the tomato kept its post on the bread untouched.
You know, the first time Becky and I tasted steak and eggs was back in the year of 1980, our first morning as a married pair.
It was a good two decades later before we indulged in it again. Marrying young and getting by on a shoestring budget doesn’t leave much room for luxuries like steak.
Once we began adding little ones to our family, any extra cents we could squirrel away were reserved for diapers and jars of baby food.
Not that we minded one bit. A tall stack of my homemade pancakes slathered in what we generously called butter and doused in budget-friendly Blackburn syrup, was the epitome of a feast to us.
Being able to kick back and live a little extravagantly for a week, was a welcome change, especially after the non-stop sprint that the school year always is.
Yes, this sea voyage has been a welcome respite, but there’s a tug at my heart towards the simple comfort of our family home. It’s as if the humble life we’ve built is beckoning us back. And honestly, there’s something incredibly appealing about that.
