Point of View - Gabe's first day on the job

Today is Gabe's first day on the job. Ugh. Part of me is genuinely excited about this and part of me is dreading it. I'm excited because I won't have to drag him along anymore, but not excited because something is bound to go wrong. Everyone loves Gabe. He means well and he's a lot of fun to be arou-oh gosh, there he goes. Almost got hit by a car! C'mon Gabe.Yep, he's on his way to the bench. Just flashed me the signal. Alright. Good job boy, looking casual..oh my, you're not Tarzan, Gabe. Watch out for the trees. You know they're aren't very many on the sidewalk. Okay there we go, he's at the bench. Phew. Mmm I can smell that bagel shop from a where I'm standing. Do an old man a favor and bring him some bagels, why don't cha? I can almost taste them now. Nope! The wife said to stick to my diet or else I'll have to make supper. I shudder. Anywho, Gabe is a real fun guy to be around. He makes us all laugh in the office and he works hard. He's always wanted to be out in the fiel-Gabe! There's a pigeon. It's attacking him! Atta boy, give him the bagel. Actually, show him who's boss! That nasty bird can go find a bagel somewhere else. I cover my eyes for this one. The bird is actually attacking him. I stifle a laugh. Oh Gabe. Hopefully this is the worst thing that happens to you today. Uh..what! Oh no! How did that happen! I look away for two seconds and the bird is inside the briefcase! Get him out, get him out! I can't believe what I'm seeing. The bird is actually pushing the buttons and flying the suitcase around and firing. The bird is firing! This is chaos! C'mon Gabey! Think of something! There you go! The bagel! Brilliant! Alright coast is clear. Let's carry on now. Oh my gosh. Did I just see what I think I saw? The bagel set off the rocket! Are you kidding me?! There's no hope. We're all gonna die. Because of a bird and a bagel. Go big or go home, right? That's what my kids tell me. At least the kid got a day out on the field like he wanted. Too bad he'll have to work behind a desk for the rest of his life. I'm probably gonna get fired. We're all gonna get fired. Wait! He's flying the briefcase to stop the rocket! Gabe what are you thinking? Why is that darned bird still after him? Someone shoot that thing before it takes over the world! Ah dangit, my eyes must be giving out on me. Time for the binoculars. I fumble for them until my hands grasp that old familiar feel of cold metal...oops that's my gun. Got 'em! Okay I see him! He's gonna make it! Way to go Gabe! You're gonna be the hero today after all! I'm so proud. Wait a second...what the heck! That stupid bird is getting in the way again! Where's that bagel Gabe?! Ahhh there you go. Phew. Bird is busy chasing the bagel. Good call Gabe. You did it, you stopped the rocket. Come on down now. That sure is a long ways up. There we go. Safe and sound. The ground is a much more comfortable place to be. I still think someone should shoot that daggum bird. That's right boy, put those snazzy glasses on and walk away like nothing happened. Looking good. Well done. Oh! The rocket! Gabe watch out! Oh phew. It just landed on the bird. Aha! Pigeon anyone?

Kirsche

Kirsche is an ingredient in my Nan's crepes. It is cherry brandy. Eau-de-vie is a French term for brandy, it means water of life. Since my Nan is french, I think that's appropriate.

Sunrise

 

This picture takes me back to two places at a first glace. The first place I go back to is a the summer a group of my closest friends got to go to the beach and stay in a condo together. It was perfect. There were six of us and it was the summer of sixteen. We got to go out to the beach every day and swim, tan, and talk. Even though there was some silly girl drama, it was a really incredible trip that made us all a lot closer and we carry those memories with us to this day. My absolute favorite part of the trip was when we decided to pull an all-nighter on our last night so we could be up for the sunrise. We walked on the beach that night and looked for shooting stars as we talked about our future. We ate mangos and put our feet in the water as we waited for the sun to wake up. It was the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen. There's just something about a sunrise over the ocean and the way it reflects on the water is breath taking. I will never forget that morning. The other sunrise the picture above brings to mind it the one from last summer at camp. It was a similar story. I went to camp with one of my closest friends, Joanna. She was actually at the other sunrise with me which is really special. But yeah. We waited until our last night there and decided to pull an all-nighter along with like 700 other high-school students. It was crazy fun. The night started off with swing-dancing in the hotel ballroom in our pajamas, then one of the condo rooms was hosting a pancake party so about 90 kids crammed into one condo until the hotel patrol showed up, and then we played games on the beach. There were groups of kids singing and playing guitar everywhere. It was incredible. Some people set up hammocks while we waited for the sun to come up. When it did, it was the most incredible thing I've ever seen. 

Sunday Morning

It's getting late. Time to decide what tomorrow holds. Sunday mornings have been very rushed lately. I decide tomorrow will be different. Breakfast is usually the first thing that happens in the morning so maybe I should start with that. My favorite breakfast food goes way back to when I was little. Countless times I sat in my Nan's kitchen and watched her make me crepes. My brother called them crappers because he didn't like them until he got older. I loved watching her make them. She would tell me every time that she had a secret recipe passed on to her by her grandmother when they lived in Belgium. They are traditional and delicious. They carry with them heritage. I remember wanting to help my Nan make them. She would let me. We would get out my special stool and I would stand on it with a huge smile across my face. She would steady my hands as I scraped the extra flour out of the measuring cup and hold the bowl for me so I could stir without it wobbling. She would even let me put the secret ingredient in. After I put the butter in the pan and twisted t it around, making the pan sizzle is my favorite part. Pouring the batter in was easy, but flipping the crepes and keeping them in their perfect thin, golden, and round loveliness was the hard part. I would make these for breakfast every time I went to visit her. When we moved away I slowly forgot about the crepes until one day I had friends over and we were going to have pancakes, but were out of batter. I made them crapes just like I did with my Nan.

All that reminiscing convinced me to make them again. It's been a while. Mmmm Nan's crepes. I have to remind myself before I go to sleep that I need to make the batter so it can sit overnight. I tiptoe down to the kitchen and put all the ingredients together. My only light source is from the pantry. I do not always make them this peculiar way, don't worry. It just so happens that I want to surprise my family in the morning by cooking them breakfast. That will make tomorrow special by throwing off the usual morning routine. All of us Hamiltons love crepes, but I am the only one who makes them because I am the only one who has the secret recipe. So with the pantry light and a little assistance from the moonlight, I mix the batter up. I hum to myself as I add in the bowl of flour, sugar, and salt to the other bowl of eggs, milk, and butter. I mix all that up and keep humming away. I don't even know what the name of the song is that I'm humming. I'm just happy and enjoying myself. I reach for the secret ingredient. Of course I'm not tall enough. I have to stand on top of the chair to get it. I knew that. I guess I thought maybe I grew a few feet since the last time I made these. I add the secret stuff and mix it in. They are done until morning. I sneak back upstairs with a new giddy-ness in my step.

In the morning, I wake up with the sun and repeat the familiar process of forming perfect golden-brown crepes. I enjoy the stillness of the morning along with the wonderful kitchen noises that we humans find so comforting like the sizzling noise the batter makes when it meets the butter, the triumphant sound of a plate hitting marble as it waits for the meal to be placed on it, and the gentle clamor of forks piled up on the wooden table. I have a wonderful idea. I smell the crepes as the stack becomes higher and higher and my stomach agrees that it's time to eat. I think back to when I was little and how badly I wanted to be able to flip them. I always told my Nan I'd be able to do that when I was all growed up. I slip three in a row with ease. Maybe I am all growed up. This thought is bitter-sweet, but reminds me that I want to teach my future grandchildren how to make these crepes too so they can strive to become expert flippers too. I start the coffee, I know the sound of the grinder starting and the smell of fresh coffee will wake my parents up. Sure enough the come in the kitchen sleepy-eyed but with smiles. Maybe I should make some bacon. That always works for my brother. Soon, we will all be enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning all thanks to my Nan's crepes.

Creating Crepes

Nan's crepes. I have to remind myself before I go to sleep that I need to make the batter so it can sit overnight. I tiptoe down to the kitchen and put all the ingredients together. My only light source is from the pantry. I do not always make them this peculiar way, don't worry. It just so happens that I want to surprise my family in the morning by cooking them breakfast. All of us Hamiltons love crepes, but I am the only one who makes them because I am the only one who has the secret recipe. So with the pantry light and a little assistance from the moonlight, I mix the batter up. I hum to myself as I add in the bowl of flour, sugar, and salt to the other bowl of eggs, milk, and butter. I mix all that up and keep humming away. I don't even know what the name of the song is that I'm humming. I'm just happy and enjoying myself. I reach for the secret ingredient. Of course I'm not tall enough. I have to stand on top of the chair to get it. I knew that. I guess I thought maybe I grew a few feet since the last time I made these. I add the secret stuff and mix it in. They are done until morning. I sneak back upstairs.

Prompts

I will never, if possible, let the can of whip cream explode at work again. While this caused lots of laughter, it caused more of a mess. Little did I know that there was a certain way to wash the old whip cream can. You have to slowly let all the air out, that I knew. I did not know however, that if you didn't make sure every bit of air was out that whatever whip cream was still in there would explode all over the place. I shot whip cream all over a 8 foot radius and all over myself. After the screams, people naturally laughed at the situation and then some of them helped me wipe up the explosion. It was all over the place. A week later I was still finding random sprays of whip cream. I will never do that again. That's a light note of something that I will never do again. I can't think of something else. Oh. I've decided that I never want to sleep in all day again. I don't really sleep all day, but when I decide to sleep in and have nothing going on that day I tend to stay in my bed as long as I can possibly keep myself there. I think the last time I did this I was in bed until 1:45. That's so much of the day wasted! Yes, sleep is important but embracing the day is more important. Plus, it usually makes you more tired and lazy when you sleep all day like that then it does when you wake up early and get going. I want to see more sunrises than anything this year. So I will never sleep until 2 again.
Those two things are still on the lighter side compared to some deeper, more personal things I could talk about. Like how I will never date someone just to date them again. but we won't go into that 'cause we're out of time. Lucky me.

She has hair that shines like the sun. Not only does her hair shine, but her stunning blue eyes do and so does her bubbly and outgoing personality. Some would say she's a southern belle. I'd say she fits that stereotype. Some crack jokes at her, but the ironic thing about that is she's top in our class so she just laughs along. This girl is my little sister. We're twins, but we look opposite in pretty much every way. My hair is as black as a raven, I have green eyes, and I am the quiet one. I love my sister and I love our differences.

I watched as the little munchkin stomped off, stopped dead in his tracks, and inhaled heavily. I knew it was coming. The deafening scream of youngin that didn't get his way is something every single human beaing dreads. I waited. Three, two, one....there it was. Worse than nails on a chalk board. I continued to observe his temper tantrum. Some kids thrash around on the ground, kicking their legs and flailing their arms, but not this one. He just stood there. Eyes staring dead straight at his mom and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. It was almost comical, but at the same time terrifying.

I get in my car and start my drive home. I can't think of what kind of music to play because I can't figure out what mood I'm in or what mood I want to be in. I feel numb. So I roll the windows down thinking the fresh air will help get me out of my own head for a bit. Instead, I get irritated with every single piece of stray hair that is flying around. So I roll the windows back up. What is bothering me so much. What is making me feel this way. I can't figure it out. Usually on my drive home I blast my music and sing at the top of my lungs. I usually have the windows down and it doesn't matter what I'm listening to. Today is not one of those days. Today I am not happy.

Crepes

My favorite breakfast food goes way back to when I was little. Countless times I sat in my Nan's kitchen and watched her make me crepes. My brother called them crappers because he didn't like them until he got older. I loved watching her make them. She would tell me every time that she had a secret recipe passed on to her by her grandmother when they lived in Belgium. They are traditional and delicious. They carry with them heritage. I remember wanting to help my Nan make them. She would let me. We would get out my special stool and I would stand on it with a huge smile across my face. She would steady my hands as I scraped the extra flour out of the measuring cup and hold the bowl for me so I could stir without it wobbling. She would even let me put the secret ingredient in. After I put the butter in the pan and twisted t it around, making the pan sizzle is my favorite part. Pouring the batter in was easy, but flipping the crepes and keeping them in their perfect thin, golden, and round lovliness was the hard part. I would make these for breakfast every time I went to visit her. When we moved away I slowly forgot about the crapes until one day I had friends over and we were going to have pancakes, but were out of batter. I made them crapes just like I did with my Nan.