I woke up rather early this morning. Like 4 a.m. early. Ugh.
Brought back memories of when my mom (who was always a night owl) would wake us up real early and we'd stumble out of bed and into the dining room where a veritable hillbilly feast lay upon the table. Biscuits, sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes...
Whether that memory had anything to do with it or not, I made biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. I can't remember the last time I did that. We have it occasionally but usually for dinner. For a long time, and for no discernible reason, Thursday became breakfast-for-supper-night. But we mixed it up with different breakfast foods each week.
Anyway, breakfast was great and I am now fortified with enough flour and grease products to fuel a day in the fields.
But I had an epiphany at the breakfast table: What if we can't get this kind of sausage in Argentina? I mean one year without was bad enough (the year in Uganda) but THREE YEARS IS UNACCEPTABLE.
So I may have to find me a recipe for making my own sausage.
In other news, I'm a bit perturbed. A group honored my FIL for his many years of service in Argentina but did not acknowledge my MIL's part AT ALL. Her name is not on the plaque and they didn't even give lip service to "his wife". Couldn't they at least have mentioned "his wife"?! Grrrrrr. He couldn't have done what he did without her help; it was definitely a team effort during THEIR 43 years as missionaries.
Okay, that's out of my system.
The hubby has gone to rent a power washer to clean the exterior of my in-laws home. I think it's been a while since this was done, since dad hasn't been able to do much for several years. And I must go pre-scrub some spots on the concrete parking pad before he gets back. TTFN (ta ta for now)