Monday, November 16, 2009

The breakfast tray

The lovely husband brought me breakfast in bed on Sunday. My mom brought me the tray packed in the bottom of her suitcase. It had been a Christmas present last year, and I had run out of space in my own suitcase when the time came to fly north again.

I sipped my coffee, ate my milk rolls, flavoured with mahlab, and read The Wind in the Willows.
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