One Dozen Plates of Bacon and Eggs

My husband and I used to go out for breakfast a lot. I called the cafe our breakfast nook. My husband likes his bacon cooked. Not undercooked or deep-fried. Just cooked. Nice and crispy. He would try to order it so that the cook would understand how he liked it prepared. He tried asking for cooked bacon, crispy bacon, pretty bacon, perfect bacon, bacon with love. The restaurant finally got a cook who could make great bacon.  She was so good that he began to just order any old bacon and it always came out with lots of love. I took a few pictures with my old cell phone.

one dozen eggs

Doesn’t all that bacon look yummy? Can you tell which plate came out on someone’s birthday?

About a year ago someone got mad when they were sorting through the tickets and saw this one:

bacon and eggs order

Everyone got in trouble and the cook quit and things were never the same again. Now I make the bacon at home every morning.

My Retreat

I love my bedroom. When I open my eyes in the morning (and put on my glasses for I am as blind as can be for someone with sight) I see my favorite books on the shelf at the end of my bed. A little statue that my grandmother loved stands in front of the books. There are candles that were a gift from my husband. Hanging on the wall next to me is a photo or two of us kissing. A comfortable chair with a bit of lamb’s wool and a warm throw and soft pillow holds my little dog snoring away. Above the chair hangs a heart-shaped collage.

a heart collage of photos

a collection of my loves

The light from my windows change with the season but the curtains are always soft and pretty regardless of the weather. Waking up in this retreat is gentle and lovely. I like it. I feel at peace.

my bedroom retreat

my bedroom

The kitties love my bedroom, too.

The kitties love my bedroom, too.

Love and Joy and Role Models

best friends, 1962,

this photo was taken the year I was born

I have three women on which I try to model everything I do in life. Mary Marjerrison was my grandmother’s best friend and was a saint. When I remember to act in life the way that she did I sleep very peacefully at night. My grandmother, Jean Allison Bullock was no saint but she had great style and I loved her a lot. Her home was beautiful while being very comfortable and her wardrobe was always stylish but nothing she couldn’t wear while washing the dishes. My mother, Gloria Bullock, has true peace in her soul. I have rarely felt judged by her and always feel her acceptance and love. My mom in her youth

I feel fortunate to have such examples of grace, style and love to draw from and gain guidance by to maneuver through my day. I think the key to successfully emulating these women is to find the confidence and joy in acting so selflessly.

To be able to spread love and joy throughout our kitchens, drive-times (ha!), jobs and grocery lines there must be love and joy inside of us. I believe that when we begin to trust ourselves and discover our confidence we find all the love and joy we need to share. We can be generous rather than miserable.

All the time and energy we use to worry about not being good enough or too fat or talentless is time away from being productive, loving, gorgeous people. Plus none of those things are true. We are good. We have strong, capable bodies. We are talented. We are gorgeous & cute. We have enough to do in those kitchens and jobs and highways and grocery stores. We certainly don’t need to spend a minute doubting ourselves.

Treat yourself the way you treat your best friend.

Treat yourself the way you would want your best friend to be treated. Every time I have ever said that sentence to anyone I can see the light dawn over their head. Wouldn’t it be great if we could pull off this idea? Imagine what life would be like if we always choose for ourselves the best and brightest.

fan club, bffs, great women

Just imagine how many lousy dates I could have avoided if my best friend were in charge of the selection. How much bad food I would not have eaten in moments of crisis. Think of how much sooner I would have added exercise into my life had it not been up to me. I would never have had too much to drink or dropped out of college or married an idiot. No insulting things would ever be thought or said about myself as I stand in front of a mirror in my underwear each morning. I would have practiced the piano and the guitar and the violin and the recorder and ice skating. I would paint every day. Oh when I think of the bad haircuts I could have avoided. I would have learned that I love kale years ago. I would be able to speak a foreign language or two. I would never have bought dumb cars. I would never drive too fast or tailgate. I would know how to swim. My garden would be lovely. I would never watch reality TV. Well, maybe the food channel.

What would your best friend choose for you?
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