And I Also Happen to Really like French Toast #sublimesunday

in life •  17 days ago

I woke up snug as a bug in a quilt. Little kids had transferred themselves from their bed to mine at some point in the wee hours. Morning light was well established where it rested on the floor next to the window. I rolled out of bed and decided to make pumpkin French toast, because that seemed like a good thing for a stay-at-home-mom to make on Sunday, September 30th. And I also happen to really like French toast.

Thirty minutes later the tot was scarfing it down like I hadn’t made a special breakfast in six months…because I hadn’t. She was sitting in her chair, inconveniently pushed about six inches too far from the table, dribbling maple syrup down herself to the rug and shouting angrily, “I want one piece, OKAY?” She was yelling not at me, but at the French toast. It had offended her by not easily getting on her fork. It’s hard to be two. I smiled. I love Sunday mornings—there’s always something serene clinging to them.

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We headed downtown, because for cheap people a #sublimesunday equates to free things for locals. Free, sublime things, like history museums with weird fortune teller stations and other bobbles lining the hallways, and trolleys that will meander through brick lined streets spouting out tidbits of history. “We won’t be gone long,” I assured Big Dog as he slurped maple syrup off the tot’s face on the way out the door.

Before we could earn our right to waste fifty cents on a weird fortune telling machine or a smashed penny, we had to wander the winding halls of the museum. First up, the exhibits on The Florida Crackers. They were a group of wanders that wound their way through an uninhabited Florida two hundred and fifty years ago. They coveted seclusion, and would appear and disappear in the palmetto brush, only the sound of their cracked whips identifying them. I see their genes in the descendants still lingering here. The true locals here have a certain brusqueness to them, and a twang to their voices, and a loner sort of waywardness. Often their skin is that reddish color of many, many sunburns turned to a leathery shade and texture. Sharp characteristics stick out, like ice blue eyes. I see one now in my mind’s eye wading out around the oyster beds to toss a cast net, a still, intenseness to him as he looks up.

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We breezed through the ship wreck exhibit and the Civil War—nobody pays Florida any mind in reference to the Civil War. We stopped at the room full of a model trainset that outlined Henry Flagler’s expansion of the railroad all the way from North Florida to the Florida Keys. He made those iconic degrading railway bridges that connect one island to the next all the way throughout the Florida Keys. I’ve seen them, and I was enamored. In model train form, I am less enamored. I’m not enamored at all; I was bored out of my mind. I started counting my split ends while I was held captive in the room by the children.

I escaped. The children smashed a penny at the expense of fifty-one of them. We hopped a trolley and let it swoop us off through the streets. Heat on a stomach full of French toast makes you nauseated. Nausea makes you grouchy, but no matter, because the lazy movement of the trolley and the friendly ring of the bell lulls. Sleepiness sets in. I could feel the Florida Crackers and Henry Flagler’s era flip-flopping around me. The crack of a whip; a rustle through the orange groves. The ache of carriage wheels against brick; the figure of a staunch man dressed in a black suit. The heavy heat of the last day of September, the deep blue of the sky above stretching endlessly, the same basic personalities no matter how the genes are watered down—it isn’t so hard to feel the past still with us.

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The trolley bell rang, and we were back in the times of streets congested with automobiles and foreign tourists arguing about which attraction to visit. And now I’m back home, snug as a bug in my quilt.

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Sounds like an interesting fun day...

I did some tourist in my own town stuff yesterday...Great fun which extended to the blog I wrote about it. Talk about getting great value for money! (And no money actually changed hands at all.) Perfect. :)

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Tourist-ing in town is the best way. No luggage, no waiting at the airport, and yes - no cost. Brilliant. :)

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Oh yes, I didn't think about the no airport thing...It means I avoid the "random" bomb screening that I ALWAYS seem to get...Randomly...

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Lol. I always think that will happen, and it doesn't. Maybe that's the trick - worry about it and then it will be smooth sailing. But then you wasted all that time worrying. Hmmm...

Seems you had a nice Sunday! I had French toast ;-)

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French toast is a perfect Sunday breakfast, in my opinion.

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Absolutely! Especially when it is shared with that special someone you love so much!

Awww your kid have squeezable cheeks! Also, I want french toast!

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The squeezablest <-- that's not a word, but it should be.

I just bought raspberry syrup. I suspect pancakes are for breakfast.

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Pfff I ate white chocolate m&m pancakes for dinner yesterday! Wait, if breakfast plus lunch is called brunch, then breakfast and dinner is called brinner? I have to google this...

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I think you are right. Although I think you might have combined dessert too. I think we are looking at "brinnert". I think a lot in the last three sentences.

That has just been added as a codeword for the tribe.

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Oh! Me like this! "brinnert" sounds good, also this should be our war scream... instead of screaming "this is waaaaar", we can scream "lets have brinneeeeert".... yeah, sounds way better!

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LOL! Yes. And then we will never go to war.

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Who want war when there's brinnert? Oh! We can bring world peace with this!

Ahhh, one of those happy Sundays full of action and rest, nice.

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Action and rest, the perfect combo. It feels so good to be good and tired come nighttime.

Pumpkin French toast sounds interesting. Is that pumpkin bread that's made into French toast or something else? I like French toast with added cinnamon stacked 3 high with cheese and maple syrup between the layers. Yum!

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It was sourdough (it was going stale) dipped in the usual French toast batter with the addition of pumpkin and spices. Pumpkin bread is an excellent idea!

Love french toast although it always makes me think of whole rediculious US episode trying to rename them "Freedom Toast" (at the same time with "Freedom Fries" ) when France would not invade Iraq with Bush.

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Lol! I've never heard of that, but I was a teenager/young adult through the Bush era so I probably wasn't paying attention. I've got to Google it now.

Not surprisingly, it didn't stick.

Sounds like a lovely day!
I have a little one who has a temper and will get angry and yell at his food too, haha!

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Oh good, other toddlers do that then. Sometimes I think we are all a little weird around here...

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I think it would be weird to NOT be weird.. Haha!
We are kinda weird around here too...

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Thank you!

howdy there ginnyannette! man I love the sound of those pumpkin French toasts! lol. That would be a wonderful way to start any day.
Hey what's that top photo, is that your street? That's incredible, I know it's probably normal to you but I don't think we have streets like that in Texas!

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That is a famous street here in town, it was named one of the most beautiful in the US, and it is. Being lined with live oaks makes it impossible not to be beautiful.

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I'm jealous. plus Florida finally has something that Texas doesn't. rats. lol.

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Haha! Don't worry, I'm sure Texas has one, maybe two things Florida doesn't ;)

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yeah more dumb rednecks! I don't know, I doubt it. Ya'll have the big beautiful beaches, the palm trees, the most beautiful streets in the world. we ain't got squat. our beaches look like dirty black gravel.
shoot. I may have to move to Florida!

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Wow, slow down cowboy, you are going to regret saying that in the morning! Don't worry, I know you truly are a die-hard Texan :)

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yeah you're probably right. oh I see, you just can't stand the thought of me being in Florida and uglifying the state! lol.