Breakfast with the Spanaird


So this is breakfast with my lovely companion…

A selection of meat and cheese with toasted bread slices.

It reminds of being on holiday in Europe (France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland) because those are the only places that I would eat such things for breakfast.


I have now come to love the taste of tomato jam – a present given to me by the uncle of my lovely companion.

The nice bit about the whole thing? It’s relaxing…

If I am eating breakfast with my lovely companion it either means he has the weekend off or we are on holiday. It means that we have usually had the longest of lie-ins and we are feeling rested and relaxed. It means life is on “go-slow” mode for bit. So breakfast with him is always a privilege and also good.

Normally I do not even have time for breakfast. I’ll eat a croissant and drink hot chocolate while standing on the Tube on the way to work (my mother would be so upset if she new about this!) or I will wolf down a bowl of cereal once I have arrived at my desk and check e-mails and reports at the same time. The weekends do not fair much better – if I am on my own then I will usually toast some bread and scramble some eggs. Certainly not the way I am meant to face the most important meal of the day. Certainly not the way I was brought up.

Breakfast as a child…

If my parents made breakfast it would be the full works – cereal followed by toast and scrambled eggs and baked beans sometimes with sausages. Sometimes we would have potatoes, eggs and beans. Sometime rice and soup or potatoes and soup or potatoes with a tiny little bit of oil and salt (Nigerian style). We never went to school on an empty stomach – it just was not allowed!

It’s strange that I broke all these rules when I left home at the old age of 26. Then I became to stressed to eat breakfast – anxious about the ward rounds, anxious about getting to work on time, anxious about life full stop.

I guess it does not have to be that way…

There are times in the winter when I make myself get up 30 minutes earlier than normal and make myself a bowl of creamy cinnamony porridge topped with honey. A lovely start to the day – taking me back to the mornings when my mother would make ReadBrek or my Dad would make porridge with a tiny pinch of salt.


So perhaps this is my little note to myself – take care of yourself…

NOTE TO MYSELF: “Get up a little earlier (which also means go to bed on time!) and make yourself the breakfast you deserve”


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