If I'm going to make pancakes, other than from scratch, this is the only mix we use.  Good old 'Snoqualmie Falls Lodge' pancake mix.  The best in the west!!  When the kids were living at home, our 'big' breakfast day was on Saturdays, pancakes or waffles, apple fritters or whatever the majority of the children (there were six) wanted.

Don and I have the most wonderful veterinarians, Mike Dougherty and Rene Hilbiber.  Rene raises Aracauna chickens (aka Easter Egg chickens) because they lay the most beautifully colored eggs)  Every now and then Rene will send a dozen home with Don.  These are three of them, I used up all the green and light blue ones.  Fresh Aracauna chicken eggs, nothing better on pancakes.  The yolks are a golden brown and they are super fresh!!  Thanks Rene!!

Ready for Don to tackle.  A 'wagon wheel' pancake (you only need one!), freshly buttered,  fresh Aracauna chicken eggs, smokey bacon and maple syrup.....breakfast fit for a king. 

The All American favorite with orange juice and hot coffee!!  Yum!  Have to tell you the story of Cinnamon.  We had a neighbor dog named Cinnamon, she was a liver spotted Dalmation.  Well, Cinnamon knew we always had our big breakfasts on Saturdays and she would come down and sit outside our sliding glass doors looking in at our family enjoying their breakfast.

  We made it a habit of saving a pancake, waffle or bacon for her.  She was very patient.  You didn't dare let her in, she was a tank of a dog, thick and solid. Her wagging tail could almost knock you off your feet.  But eventually one of the kids would open the door and give Cinnamon her long awaited treat, she would head down the patio, tail wagging like crazy, and head for home to enjoy her breakfast.

  It was something we and Cinnamon enjoyed for years.  I considered Cinnamon my buddy, she would come down and lay next to me when I weeded in the flower beds and I would buy sacks of medium size Milk Bones just for Cinnamon, our dog, Jenny, wouldn't touch them.  I did this for years.

  One day I came home from the store and was unpacking the groceries, when my son said "who are the Mllk bones for mom?"  I replied "Cinnamon!"  We always would say "Seeeeenaaaaamaaaannnnnn!"

Von said, "Mom, they moved!"  I cried! No one asked me if they could move and take our buddy away.  I felt bad for weeks.  Then, as time does, the ache went away, but I would think of her so often.

One day, about three years later, I came home from work to have lunch.  I unlocked the door, stepped inside, looked across the dining room and who should be sitting on the step looking in, smiling that big toothy dog grin and wagging her tail hard enough to cause bruises?  "Seeeeeeenaaaaaaamaaannnnn!"  And that's exactly what I yelled as I ran and threw my arms around her welcome doggy body.  Apparently they had only moved about a mile away, Cinnamon had dug out and come back to visit.  Don't you ever tell me that animals don't remember things.  Oh yes they do!!  Love you Cinnamon!