Memory

Folger's and Maxwell House coffee are actually quite good. If I was lucky, I smelled it as soon as I woke up, meaning that my friend was already awake and dressed and percolated a pot of it. That smell made me want to get up. I stopped to make my bed before going downstairs, knowing my friend usually made hers first thing AND got dressed before breakfast.

As I walked downstairs, the sound of the radio in the kitchen got louder: "Mr. Sandman, give me a dream. Make it the cutest that I've ever seen." There was my friend seated at the crowded kitchen table reading the newspaper, spread out over the radio and her mail collection. The kitchen table may be the one messy spot in that house.

Now that I was awake, it was time for breakfast. We both had some coffee; me, in a white, curved mug; she, in a straight-side pink mug with some cute picture or message on it. My friend always had canned milk (evaporated milk) in her coffee. It's the kind of can you open by poking a triangular hole in the top. You pour from the hole, store the milk in the can, and keep it fresh by covering the top with a plastic, snap-on lid. My friend didn't take sugar in her coffee, but I did.

In the summer, we had cereal or English muffins. My friend usually started with a bowl of cereal, then had some toast. In the winter, we had oatmeal.

We ate at the dining room table. I didn't grow up in a family where everyone ate breakfast at the same time, so I was used to breakfasting alone. It was nice to have company over breakfast. I'm sure my friend, who lives alone, felt the same way.