Saturday Big Breakfast

I'm kind of stuck in the doldrums of January in sixth grade. One story is coming to mind, but I lost my DVD of the old pictures and I want to post one with the story in my head right now. I shouldn't say I lost it, but with all of us using the computer, it has been misplaced by someone putting something else in the tower. It will be found, but I didn't want to extend the energy right now to look for it.
There is not much difference between the sunlight now and when I woke up four hours ago. A light snow is dancing around, occasionally blown fiercely by the wind. Just gray, gray, gray. I remember so many days like this growing up. And we hung around the house mostly on Saturdays. Kids weren't as involved in as many activities as today. As a teenager, I did do more on Saturdays, volunteering at the hospital, Rainbow practices, youth group projects. My daughter's Saturdays this month requires eight hours, practice and set building for the musical.
Saturday mornings did involve a big breakfast. A variety every week met me as I sauntered into the kitchen. French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs(ketchup please, thank you,) oatmeal or cream of wheat were the usual fare. We had two brown sugars to use, dark or light, as well as white, if I so desired. At camp one year, I observed a counselor put just butter and white sugar on her french toast and I followed suit. Last week, I put sweet orange marmalade on mine and oh, heavenly, it was good. Mom and Dad used the old black cast iron round griddle, which I believed made it to California. The eggs scrambled in a big pan of the same material.
One time, my dad made french toast with orange rinds, some recipe he read. Some of Mom's less used breakfasts were corn meal mush or scrapple, corn beef hash, sausage gravy and biscuits. Very rarely, Spam made the table, putting to the test that anything fried can taste good. That failed. My parents were very creative with the breakfast foods.
As I got older, we all sat around drinking coffee after the meal, talking, reading the Pittsburgh Post, and magazines. In the winter we stayed in the kitchen. As the weather warmed, we took our coffee to the side porch, sitting there.
As a teenager, I took over some of the breakfasts if I wasn't running off somewhere. At an overnight for Girl Scouts, we fried up Pillsbury biscuits to make little dough nuts. I tried that by myself then.
I love those lazy Saturday mornings and breakfasts. After I married, Bisquick became my best tool. I continued the big breakfast Saturdays. Never made waffles, though. Mom's iron caused the waffles to stick, so she didn't make them and neither do I. But my sister made them with fresh fruit and whipped cream. She, too, loves the Saturday big breakfast.
Breakfast foods work well for supper, too. Hmm, what's for dinner?