Читать книгу 365 Simple Pleasures - Susannah Seton - Страница 84

My father was an old-fashioned country doctor who made house calls and visited his patients in the county hospital every day except Sunday. On Saturdays, he would get up early and, on the way to the hospital, stop for breakfast at what my mother always referred to as “the dirty diner.” It was a greasy spoon in an old railroad car with split black leather booths whose chief appeal to my dad was the break in his routine of coffee and the newspaper before rushing off to work. I too have learned the pleasure of a regular breakfast out. It’s a chance to slow down and observe the start of the day through new eyes. Also, eating a good breakfast is good for you both mentally and physically So go to a café and sit among people you normally don’t see. You can still read the newspaper, but remember to listen to new sounds and conversation and enjoy the smells that only breakfast provides.