Tag: breakfast

Up, down, shake it all around

Up, down, shake it all around


Indulge me for a moment while I focus on the selfie stick.

The selfie stick is one of those items that are at the same time dreadfully touristy and incredibly useful. The benefits are obvious – not all friendly tourists will take a nice pic of you – and yet we still hesitate to buy one, not wanting to join the throngs wandering about, sticks in the air, heads bobbing about.

Our friend Ruth has a selfie stick; she brought it with her on our trip to Italy.

Our friend Ruth is an intelligent, funny and capable woman, however mastering the selfie stick seems to be a skill that has totally bypassed her. And nothing – nothing – on this trip to Italy has made us laugh so hard, so loud, so tears streaming down our face shrieking, as Ruth taking our photo using the selfie stick.

We don’t get it out much because it takes a short discussion on appropriateness and importance of the proposed site followed by around 45 minutes of assembly. In fact until today we’d only used it three times: for a photo at the Roman forum with Ruth’s head chopped off, a photo at the Spanish Steps without the Spanish Steps in it and a photo of our black shapeless head silhouettes in front of some blurry backlit columns somewhere in Rome.

The thing is, I really don’t know how it always goes so wrong what with all of the instructions the rest of us provide for Ruth to follow. Particularly Tim. Because wives love it when their husbands shout a string of conflicting instructions at them. Take this morning when we went for our fourth attempt with the selfie stick on a cute little canal bridge in Venice. After the assembly process, Ruth lifted the stick, and it was on.

“Tilt it back!”

“Straighten it up!”

“Lift it higher!”

“Move your head!”

“You move your head!”




“The other sideways!”

“Wait, I need my sunglasses!”

“Don’s not in!”

“I said straighten it up!”

“Tim’s too tall!”

“I can’t hold this pose much longer!”

“Tilt it 80 degrees left!”

“Sure, let me get my protractor out!”

“Wait, I’ll take my hat off.”

“I can’t find the button!”

“It’s on the bottom!”

“It’s on the side!”





And so we have added to our collection a photo on a Venice bridge, three smiling faces and Don sliced perfectly down the middle.

Retired hurt

Retired hurt

San Francisco

We’ve been in San Francisco for three days now, and I’m yet to finish a meal.

Our first breakfast was at Sears Fine Food, where breakfast comes with hash browns. That’s at least three potatoes right there. Plus Southern corned beef hash, made with an additional two potatoes. Needless to say, I could not finish.

Dinner, Tad’s steakhouse, and one magnificent steak the size of my face, plus a baked potato the size of my head. Needless to say, I could not finish.

My plan for yesterday’s breakfast at Pinecrest Diner was just oatmeal. “Or perhaps cereal,” I said to Don, “but no more potatoes.”

“Scrambled eggs,” I said to the waitress after Don had ordered.

“Do you want bacon as well?” she asked.

“Oh, go on then.” Wisely Don said nothing. And of course the whole lot was served on the biggest hash brown I’ve ever seen.

Needless to say, I didn’t even come close to finishing.

I must say though, a big breakfast certainly keeps you going for most of the day. Yesterday morning’s potato mountain held us through until 3pm, at which point we embarked on a walking food tour of North Beach with Avital tours.

Oh. My. God.

Four courses at four fabulous Italian restaurant institutions. Rich tomato seafood stew, arancini balls, woodfired pizza, fresh ricotta filled cannoli. Sourdough bread. Red wine. Thank goodness we were at the top of the hill at the last stop and could just roll back to the hotel. With the leftover pizza and cannoli.

Because we couldn’t finish it.