Sunday Morning

I am uncertain what Sunday mornings consist of for most.  I seem to forget every one after 17 years old to a few months ago.  Interesting, but that's MS.  It's remitting for the moment.

Sunday morning often smelled of coffee and bacon.  I'm the vegetarian bacon-eater who doesn't drink coffee.  The two scents I enjoy most, especially together.  I love going into a coffee shop mainly because of the lovely aroma.  I love going into Tim Horton's and taking a big whiff.  I loved out west at the beginning of the Starbucks craze.

As for bacon, I always loved the taste and scent.  I ate zero bacon between the ages of 17 to late-20s.  I didn't ever buy meat, I've only nibbled on bacon when my family had some on their plate.  My Grandmother, Mother, and I must eat overly-crisp bacon.  I am a vegetarian bacon-eater and gladly admit it.  It's been years since I've had it :(  I'll trade my computer for a pig - okay, no I won't...

So I'll wrap-up for now.  Damn I'm uncomfortable.  I can hear the  neighbours...