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I had my heart set on a big Southern style breakfast the first day of a recent visit to my daddy and mama's house in Mississippi. I spent days -- yes, even weeks -- dreaming of eggs over easy, Southern style grits, bacon, homemade biscuits, the works. I awoke that first day in Mississippi to the promise of a little cafe right down the road that makes the best breakfast around the clock.
As often happens in the South, we meandered around all morning, answering the phone, talking about the weather, sitting in the swing positioned perfectly beneath the shade trees, sipping morning coffee. Time passed. My hunger awoke. My cousin called and said she would be joining us for breakfast.
More time passed. I watched the little lane eagerly for signs of cousin Missy's arrival. My stomach had started to growl, and nobody seemed in a hurry to get anywhere. Finally, I heard the gravel crunching and we all moseyed on over to hug cousin Missy's neck, carry her bags in the house, and show her a lil' Southern hospitality.
Inside I was grumbling, "I'm 'bout to starve to death people, let's get a move on." Outside, I just smiled and waved, sitting there on that sack of seeds....
After much ado about nothing, we loaded up two vehicles, me and cousin Missy riding shotgun with hubby, while PawPa and Gramma took my young guns, and headed to the promised land...the little cafe "right down the road."
My stomach was doing flips by this time, in anticipation of what was to come. Imagine my horror when we pulled into the cafe and daddy gave us the "wait just a minute finger."
"Just a minute," I thought, "Do you want me to keel over?" It got worse when he came out of the cafe and said, "Too late for breakfast, follow me, I know another lil' place, just right down the road. They serve breakfast all day."
I tried not to show my dismay. One thing I've learned in the South you're "just right down the road" from anywhere, and that can mean a good 10, 20, or 100 miles...I sighed. I quoted scripture "Woman shall not live by homemade biscuits and jelly alone..."
We followed my daddy on down the road, for miles, and miles, and miles. My thoughts began to spill out of my mouth.
"Where in the world is he taking us? I'm about to starve to death." I tried to forgive my cousin Missy, who we had waited on for hours, (okay, minutes). I tried to forgive my daddy, who was obviously lost in his own back yard. I watched the clock. I watched the miles roll by. Suddenly, we made a turn. Mississippi red dirt turned to rolling green hills and thick pine trees along the side of the road, and I saw a sign, "Welcome to Alabama."
"He took us all the way to Alabama for breakfast," I screeched.
My husband just grinned, being used to dealing with my growling stomach. Cousin Missy tried to keep the peace, saying "Well, your daddy knows best, I'm sure it will be worth the drive."
I fanned myself and tried not to do a "Southern Belle faint." Finally, we pulled into a gravel parking lot where a little white building with hand painted flowers and the words "Cafe," decorated the windows. I felt myself tensing up as I watched everyone slowly climb from their vehicles, stretch, scratch...
Afraid we would start hugging one another's necks again after such a long trip, I hurried to the cafe door and started rushing my little Southern family in like I was herding cattle. "SHOOO now, get on in there..."
2 Eggs and bacon, the best grits I've ever had the pleasure of tasting, and just a few homemade biscuits later I was sorry for my bad attitude on the drive over. I even managed to laugh that I woke up in Mississippi, ate breakfast in Alabama, and would mosey on over to Tennessee a little later for a swim in the river. I guess it's true what they say in the South, "It's just right down the road, honey, it's just right down the road."
I had my heart set on a big Southern style breakfast the first day of a recent visit to my daddy and mama's house in Mississippi. I spent days -- yes, even weeks -- dreaming of eggs over easy, Southern style grits, bacon, homemade biscuits, the works. I awoke that first day in Mississippi to the promise of a little cafe right down the road that makes the best breakfast around the clock.
As often happens in the South, we meandered around all morning, answering the phone, talking about the weather, sitting in the swing positioned perfectly beneath the shade trees, sipping morning coffee. Time passed. My hunger awoke. My cousin called and said she would be joining us for breakfast.
More time passed. I watched the little lane eagerly for signs of cousin Missy's arrival. My stomach had started to growl, and nobody seemed in a hurry to get anywhere. Finally, I heard the gravel crunching and we all moseyed on over to hug cousin Missy's neck, carry her bags in the house, and show her a lil' Southern hospitality.
Inside I was grumbling, "I'm 'bout to starve to death people, let's get a move on." Outside, I just smiled and waved, sitting there on that sack of seeds....
After much ado about nothing, we loaded up two vehicles, me and cousin Missy riding shotgun with hubby, while PawPa and Gramma took my young guns, and headed to the promised land...the little cafe "right down the road."
My stomach was doing flips by this time, in anticipation of what was to come. Imagine my horror when we pulled into the cafe and daddy gave us the "wait just a minute finger."
"Just a minute," I thought, "Do you want me to keel over?" It got worse when he came out of the cafe and said, "Too late for breakfast, follow me, I know another lil' place, just right down the road. They serve breakfast all day."
I tried not to show my dismay. One thing I've learned in the South you're "just right down the road" from anywhere, and that can mean a good 10, 20, or 100 miles...I sighed. I quoted scripture "Woman shall not live by homemade biscuits and jelly alone..."
We followed my daddy on down the road, for miles, and miles, and miles. My thoughts began to spill out of my mouth.
"Where in the world is he taking us? I'm about to starve to death." I tried to forgive my cousin Missy, who we had waited on for hours, (okay, minutes). I tried to forgive my daddy, who was obviously lost in his own back yard. I watched the clock. I watched the miles roll by. Suddenly, we made a turn. Mississippi red dirt turned to rolling green hills and thick pine trees along the side of the road, and I saw a sign, "Welcome to Alabama."
"He took us all the way to Alabama for breakfast," I screeched.
My husband just grinned, being used to dealing with my growling stomach. Cousin Missy tried to keep the peace, saying "Well, your daddy knows best, I'm sure it will be worth the drive."
I fanned myself and tried not to do a "Southern Belle faint." Finally, we pulled into a gravel parking lot where a little white building with hand painted flowers and the words "Cafe," decorated the windows. I felt myself tensing up as I watched everyone slowly climb from their vehicles, stretch, scratch...
Afraid we would start hugging one another's necks again after such a long trip, I hurried to the cafe door and started rushing my little Southern family in like I was herding cattle. "SHOOO now, get on in there..."
2 Eggs and bacon, the best grits I've ever had the pleasure of tasting, and just a few homemade biscuits later I was sorry for my bad attitude on the drive over. I even managed to laugh that I woke up in Mississippi, ate breakfast in Alabama, and would mosey on over to Tennessee a little later for a swim in the river. I guess it's true what they say in the South, "It's just right down the road, honey, it's just right down the road."
