Runny eggs...

When I was little, my brother and sisters and I would spend most every weekend at my grandparent's house.  While my mom and dad were working hard, we got to spend quality time with my grandma and grandpa.  I know my parents would have probably preferred spending the time with us but they were working to earn extra money so we could do special things.  Turns out that not only did we benefit from them working weekends and getting to do fun things, but mom and dad also gave us another gift, the gift of getting to bond and be so close with our grandparents. 

The relationship I had with my grandmother and continue to have with my grandfather is yet another wonderful blessing in my life.  I love (d) spending time with them and talking to my grandfather each morning and night reminds me that I have so much to be thankful for and what really matters in life.  Sometimes after a stressful day at work, just talking to him and hearing how thankful he is for getting to spend almost 60 years with my grandmother, reminds me to not take the gifts I have today for granted and to enjoy these busy stressful times. 

So you may be thinking to yourself, what does runny eggs have to do with you reminising about your days with your grandparents.  The answer is actually a lot.  Each Sunday morning, my siblings and I would wake up and have a spread of a breakfast with my grandma and grandpa.  Grandma would make sausages, bacon, toast with her homemade strawberry jam, and grandpa would make the eggs.  Those Sunday mornings were wonderful and as the sound of Leo Greico's Variety Time would play in the background my grandma and grandpa would rush through the kitchen making us a feast.  They did everything they coudl to make sure the breakfast was as perfect as it could be.  Grandma knew we'd liked a certain kind of sausage link from the Protovin locker and even better we prefered it without the casing/skin.  So she'd carefully boil the sausages and then peel each one so that it would be just as we'd like.  I ask myself if I'd do the same for my boys and the answer is no, I'd just tell them to eat it with the skin on.  Maybe that is a trait one develops when they become a grandparent.   :-)

And the eggs, my grandpa is the best runny egg maker in the whole United States.  He's carefully cooked the eggs to make sure the yolk didn't break and that the eggs were cooked enough to be perfectly over easy.  My brother and sisters and I LOVED them.  We'd each have several (more than 3) eggs and then when we'd ask for more, sometimes we'd get a yes and sometimes Grandma would say, "Dear you shouldn't have any more, you'll get sick".  That was her way, even when she was saying no to something, it was in the nicest way you didn't even feel like you were being denied the exact thing you were asking for. 

Those Sunday mornings will forever be a happy memory from my childhood.

And runny eggs is what we'd call them then and continue to do today. It turns out, in some strange way, I now get to relive those Sunday mornings on the weekends in our house. When Grandpa Ray visited a few times ago he graciously put his expert skills to work and made runny eggs for the boys. It was a true hit. They love them. They really do! Infact they ask for runny eggs most weekend mornings. And although I can't make them even half as good as my grandpa, I do my best to follow the steps he showed me to make them for my family. And I guess they must be okay becuase the boys scarf them down and ask for them again.

Although I'm not sure the runny egg breakfasts will be as important to the boys as they were for me as a child, but I'm thankful for the chance to get to make them for them.  Not only does it make me feel good that they like my cooking but it gives me the gift of reflecting on the wonderful runny egg mornings with my grandparents.

Until next time,

angie