Ginger snaps & tea Tuesday

I realized that my last blog was a bit self centered. Of course, who wouldn't want to make claims to be like Stephanie? But I'll try to focus more on remembering my mother, and less on self glorification.

Monday's memorial was to have a pear for Breakfast. For a very long time, my ma would get a small plate, a proper cutting knife, usually the red handled knife, and slice a green Anjou pear. She occasionally mixed it up by having a yellow or red barlette or other varietals. The pear was usually consumed with a cup of tea, and a number of family members roaming the kitchen, dining room and bathroom as we prepared for the day.
On Sundays breakfast was accessorized by the newspaper, and the comics were shared and passed around the table.

These days I find I enjoy a sliced pear dipped in almond butter. I recently enjoyed a pear that my father picked for me- prepared in this fashion. I will always associate pears with my mother. Back in Virginia we had a market that sold local pears in the fall. I'm so glad I was able to share them with my mother. Virginia was my first real home away from home. Still, I was able to contact my mother on a whim, to ask about the water to rice ratio, about confusing cold symptoms and other things that only parents/family can answer correctly.