Waffling
I went on a bit of a séjours recently and stayed at a Best Western Plus hotel for two nights. The cost of accommodations included a full hot breakfast. It was there where I, for the first time, used an industrial style waffle iron and made my first ever homemade waffle. I’m only 68 years old!
The four minute process was followed by a trip to the buffet table offering toppings. Surprisingly my favourite berry compoté was the feature — strawberries and whipped cream, and I loaded my plate generously. It was so very delicious, the flavours stayed in my mind all day, including during my nightly wrap-up before falling asleep. I think I dreamt of strawberries all night and woke up with a super charged morning jump out of bed, into the shower, and prepared for round two.
As I got to the buffet and prepared my table for another feast, I noticed the waffle offerings did not include strawberries. My heart frowned. « okay, » I said. « On to Plan B » But, I didn’t have a Plan B. Imagine that — me, caught off quard, no Plan B.
So, I looked at the offering. It was some kind of round berry compoté and for some reason I declared it to be cranberries.
« Hm, cranberry waffle »????
« Oh, it’s a new day. It’s good to try new things. On with it! «
I scooped a spoon full and realised it was not cranberries, it was blueberries! My second favourite compoté!
My frowning heart turned right side up, and my pursed lips smiled too.
This would be yet another fine day!
Moral of this story: don’t count your chickens until they are hatched. Be prepared mentally for whatever eventuality. Be grateful there were many other options on the buffet to appease the inner need to EAT! Just waffle on …
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