A Monday brunch with the corgis

The corgis heard the bacon pan from two rooms away and were in the kitchen before I’d cracked the first egg. They are, as corgis are, entirely convinced every breakfast is for them. I set the long table the way I like it on a slow Monday - waffles stacked golden, scrambled eggs, a bowl of roast potatoes, bacon and sausage on a platter, cut watermelon and strawberries, a pink teapot that only comes out when I feel like it. The corgis took up positions on either side of the table and waited. They got bacon. Everyone got bacon.

An overhead view of a long wood table set with empty plates at the head and foot, and a cluster of breakfast in the middle - plates of golden round waffles, a bowl of scrambled eggs, a bowl of roast potato chunks, a platter of bacon and sausage, a pitcher of orange juice, a pink teapot, a bowl of watermelon, a bowl of strawberries, little glasses of juice, and a corgi visible on each side of the table peeking up toward the food.