Saturday Morning

Saturday breakfast (brunch by the time we make it out of the house)  is what we've been doing for our 'just the two of us' dates lately. Weekend evenings are dinner at the Ale House with friends, but Saturday morning I think is just for us. I love that it's a good day and time to catch up on the events of the past week and for some reason I find the weekend morning atmosphere of a restaurant kind of festive. Neighbors running into neighbors. Tall people and long arms reaching for little hands up-stretched. Chatting with whomever happens to be closest in line. Scanning a lively room to see if  a wood topped table will open up. The room rustling with those making plans for the next couple of days balanced by those intent on making no plans at all. An unglamourous meal that is simple to show up for simply because it is just that.  Maybe it's the fact that daylight through the windows works well for photos or that we're both morning people, but it has worked its way back into our weekends.

During our early days together, because we worked different shifts or when Marc was in school, breakfast out seemed to be what we did. While we wondered what the future held it was an affordable outing and the timing worked. We had so many long conversations at Julia's 14 Carrot Cafe over mugs of coffee and Tahitian Toast with fruit and yogurt. Dressed up dinner dates were fine and special and fun....but  not more so than the mornings when we were the real 'us'.  A pricey evening at a good restaurant was a rare journey. It was practical and comfortable to decide to hang out where we could afford to.

When the boys were little they were allowed to be their spirited selves a bit more at breakfast than if we ventured forth at the dinner hour......and we felt like we got out of the house. Stacks of pancakes, bowls of fruit, a few books or small toys and we had a little break. A meal served. No dishes. A psuedo-date. During years filled with homework, sleepovers, sports and busy kid activities, pancakes and eggs served by others were edged off the calendar.  I'm thinking we miss the noise of a full house because for the past few weekends our routine has been morning coffee at home and a quick discussion about where to go. This week we ended up at the Portage Bay Cafe. Organic food, really good coffee and they bake their own bread. The good kind that's a little crunchy on the outside, softer on the inside and sort of begs to be topped with jam from the jar on the table. Employee's t-shirts ask us to 'Eat Like You Give A Damn."  OK.  I ordered hash with lots of veggies (which included both sweet and white potatoes) and a little bacon. I have no idea what Marc ordered......I was paying too much attention to my own meal.  And to the family with the rambunctious boys at the next table. And to the holding-hands couple at the counter.  The ones who at first glance I thought were our age until I realized they were twenty-something years younger.

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