Breakfast in Bed... well, close.

Saturday's breakfast spread: Toasted waffles, cut apples and peeled mandarin oranges with a glass of hot milk.  Only I was served the oranges, which were the two remaining.  They said I always gave them so this time they wanted to give me.

The boys are so capable of driving me up the walls, especially in the last two weeks, it has almost become their second nature.  Yet, what they did over this weekend could probably be why Christophe and I have been working so hard for.  They made me breakfast and cleaned the kitchen.  I swear I did not enter the kitchen, before and after food.

It felt weird I didn't have to prepare breakfast.  It felt strange to not have something to be busy with in the mornings.  It was oddly relaxing.  I certainly needed time to get used to this, but I will not fall into the habit of being served.  When there is no expectation, there is no disappointment.

Sunday's breakfast spread: scrambled eggs on toast, sausages, yoghurt and a glass of hot milk.  This time, I got the biggest bowl of yoghurt, they had to explain in length to Johann, a big yoghurt lover, to let mummy have the biggest bowl because they wanted to make me happy.

Are they growing up?  Are they ready to give back some, after receiving for so many years?  Is this a preview of the fruits of our labour?  What else must we do now for a more fruitful harvest later on?  What should we do to prevent our fruits to be infested by pests?  What are some of the methods we have administered incorrectly?  Should we keep to the traditional approach, or be adventurous to try out new ways?  What should we do more?  What should we do less?  How do we cope with the macro factors?  So many questions, so many goes unanswered.

We have to find out ourselves.  Your farm is as different from mine as mine is from yours.  We will have different solutions to our problems.  But we will solve them alright.