Breakfast during the Fast

As we all know I am not and, unfortunately, never will be a morning person. But even though I do not actually like the getting up early part, I've pretty much always enjoyed breakfasting the mornings of the fast. At home it was quite a production - we'd all get up and have a nice cooked meal. Daddy and Mommy would cook, Nathan would be hanging around, in later years Rachel would be up and sooo tired and I would have to laugh. Someone would set the table; someone else would be cutting up grapefruits. Good family time. And of course, we would all pray together afterwards.

Then I went to college and had to do it all by myself. I had to wake myself up (oh yeah, one of my parents would always come get me - and that's a better way to wake up) if I wanted to eat. But I had no access to a kitchen. I had a microwave but not so much as a toaster to cook anything in. And, worst of all - I was alone. Fasting is no fun alone.

But then the next year Gabe came to Maryville - yay Gabe! And he would cross campus on some mornings and we'd cook a small breakfast in the common room kitchen. And the next year was even better - we actually lived in the same building and I had my own kitchen - much more convenient.

This year was even better because Pooneh, Kamran, and Arianna came over quite a few mornings and I cooked for them (Gabe, of course, is studying abroad). I made all sorts of things - scrambled eggs, cinnaman apple toast, ham, pancakes, omelets, bacon, french toast, bannanas and cream - lots of my favorite things. Today was the best of all (even though it definitely also took the longest): I made crepes! Yum. But I switched it up a little - instead of cherries we had blueberries on our crepes (you see, Danielle does not like cherries). Like I said though - it took a long time... I don't have a griddle where I can cook 8 or 10 at a time. Instead, I cooked them two at a time in a smallish skillet and they all turned out looking like steaks (the shape, I mean) because of the curve the skillet and because the eyes on the stove are crooked. But they were still tasty; at least, I thought so.

In other news, I agreed to play a (piano) sonata at the next Maryville College student recital. Why?

I love real Professors

I love professors who are the epitomy of the word "professor." The stereotypical crazy-haired, slightly absent minded, just professors. Like there's nothing else that they could ever be. There are some professors who are just teachers; others, like my instructor for my bollywood class, are almost friends you could talk to about, well, movies (for instance, like I did today - I'd mentioned that I'd seen that movie before - Kuch Kuch Hota Hai for anyone who remembers those old times.. the one when they were best friends at college but he loves the other girl who then dies and her daughter finds his old best friend at a summer camp and gets them together in the end - sorry if that's a bit confusing, but it's hard to summarize a 3 hour movie in one coherent sentence. Back to the main topic: good ol' professors.) There are those who make you frantic trying to copy the insane amount of notes down, but then also discuss. Then there are those who can somehow always engage the class completely and who just make the class feel like a college course. I guess, to put it simply, those who make you want to go to class - you don't want to miss the tiny but hysterical comments, or the stories he will tell when he goes off on his little tangents... but that aren't tangents really because he can pull them back and make them fit into anything we were talking about. When you regret not going to class instead of leaving class and wishing you hadn't wasted your time. Oh, I'll miss learning from professors. (ps. look closely, I just described my course schedule... that's my life right now) I'm glad I've had a few professors in my college career.


Actually, here is a picture of the current "Professor" I have. It's a shame he doesn't have the longer and grayer messy hair that he has now - it adds so much to the whole professor thing. Anyways, thanks Dr. Klingensmith (and, of course, to the others I've had over the years).

(I don't know why I came back and added these pictures -- I guess I just thought I needed more pictures)