1995 Eivissa & Gran Canaria: Breakfast in America

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Gran Canaria

 

1995

3 Months

NYC

A Jewel

Eivissa

Tree Abuse

ECO

Black Friday

Bocadillo

Danger!

Estofado

Sangria

Rave

Cannibis

Camino Viejo

Neutrinos

Weather

Roosters

JCS

The PM

Plongeé

Smila

Customs

O. J. Verdict

1995 Eivissa (Ibiza): Fish Monger

A Roar

MacWorld

Padinkos

Bye E, Hello GC

Gran Canaria

Where

A Tour

How

Food

Yumbo

Las Palmas

Playa

1995 Gran Canaria: Potpourri

Norteños

More Food

Irishmen

Heading Home

USA

With Dad

Back at Home

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1995 Eivissa & Gran Canaria: Breakfast in America

5 Nov 1995

The next morning Dad has a full breakfast ready and waiting for me. I spend most of the next few hours cleaning up Dad's Mac Plus and setting up an America On-Line account. Now he's got something to do on his computer besides writing his memoirs. And he and I can keep in touch more easily (for me, that is). We call up the San Francisco store to get the UPS shipper number, and call UPS to determine that the PowerBook isn't scheduled to arrive until tomorrow.

Daniel Henry Sattler

In the late afternoon I give my Dad a hug and head off to my Mother's place, ten minutes away by car. She's on the phone and busily cooking dinner when I arrive. We get a very nice hour or two for quiet reconnection; we haven't spent this much time in conversation for at least a year. As we're downing some delicate tea, Emil, her husband of several years walks in from the garage, having parked the car after commuting from the office. He joins our conversation, drinking a beer in a large, clear glass.

Then it's time to finish making dinner. Emil combines the salad dressing ingredients and shakes together something tasty. He then walks outside into the cool night air and fires up the propane hibachi to cook the thin chicken filets my Mom's been marinating. The potatoes are mashed, the gravy is made, and we sit down to a beatifully arranged table complete with candles and wine. The night is dark, and the cold from the windows penetrates the room just a bit, but the heat is on, the food is delicious, and the conversation is comforting. Dessert comes, and the evening is over far too soon. I promise to try and make it tomorrow, Dad's dinner arrangements permitting.

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