As a kid, as a teen, as a young adult, as an adult...as long as my parents lived in this house, I would hop out of bed and run to this window to check out the day. Then I would quickly get dressed and dash down the hall and through the dining room to the kitchen and embrace the smell of fresh coffee, home baked bread, and be greeted by my Mother's smile.
If my Mother had a lot on her mind and could not sleep, she would get up in the middle of the night and start baking bread. She was a wonderful bread baker...no, she was a wonderful baker period! Consequently not only was my greeting her smile as well as hot coffee...but it would also be freshly baked bread. To this day I fondly remember popping open a freshly baked roll, slathering it with butter, and then coating it with home-made jam for my breakfast.
Thank you Mom for these wonderful memories...and oh what I would not give for one of those home-baked rolls right now!