In case we want to remember the kitchen

Beth wished she had photographs of her grandmother's hands. I too wish that I had photos of my grandmother in the farm kitchen where she prepared such wonderful meals on a wood stove and I wish I had photos of us in the kitchen of the house where I grew up.
We used to help ourselves to something to eat on a Sunday evening after church - there were no chairs, but we would stand around or sit on the concrete slab table or even the kitchen sink and have long conversations. My father used to challenge our philosophies - especially those of the theological student boyfriends! We had some lively debates right there in the kitchen. Those were the days.
So just in case posterity or I become nostalgic about our kitchen one day, I took some photos of the two men in my life as they made breakfast. I have been spoiled for 33 1/2 years: Jan has always made the breakfast (a proper breakfast with egg and toast) and lately Hendrik does that when he is at home. My father used to say "Ek sal jou hou!" (I'll keep you) and that is what I say to these two special men.

Hendrik still a bleary eyed and with hair wet from his shower, buttering the toast. I use yoghurt instead of margarine on my toast, but it has not helped me to lose an ounce!

Jan is an expert at dishing up the eggs. His speciality is omelettes. Hendrik makes baked eggs with cheese. We eat breakfast at 5:50 - that's why the curtains are still closed!