| Next Free Community Pancake Breakfast - June 29, 2008 | |
| This will be the last Pancake Breakfast until September. | |
| Bring Your Family! Bring Your Friends! |  |
| For those with dietary restrictions we offer sugar–free jams with our yummy home–made blueberry pancakes. | |
| We rely on the generosity of Queen Street members to sustain this initiative. If you would like to make a donation add an amount to your Sunday envelope marked “Breakfast”. | |
| The Breakfast is NOW held the last Sunday of each month. | |
Pancake Breakfast Newsfrom the Anniversary Newsletter, November 2007 |
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| Our free community Pancake Breakfast continues to serve a fresh hot breakfast to a mix of nieghbours, those in need and
members of the congregation on the last Sunday of each month. In November this falls on the 25th: (and, in January, on the 27th –
Ed.) please mark your calendar and join us between 9 and 10 am. If you would like to join our roster of volunteers, please call Sally Crouch at 613-549-1787. Big thanks are extended, as always, to the faithful donors who make the Breakfast possible. Recently I was trolling through my poem archive and came across a piece written when the Pancake Breakfast was beginning, in its first year: 2003, when it happened that the 3rd Sunday fell on summer solstice. I include this poem with my report in homage to the many people who have made this project of service such a pleasure. The Will mentioned here is Will Cowan, our first batter–master and originator of the breakfast idea and spirit. Joan Tompkins encouraged him to sing as he mixed .... |
points turning (the breakfast) the longest day of the year finds me in good company Will's voice full lyric tremelo floats in a creased filigree of across the high hall as he slings flour and cracks eggs to conjure batter into golden cakes heaped high on mismatched platters we perform the new sacrament gather elements the opaque swirl of coffee in a flowered cup the smell of dish soap familiar sting of bleach and sticky syrup trails across rumpled white plastic families huddle in fast paced conversation girls in pink sweaters shriek and twirl small boys lean into fathers the quiet ones come early to eat with deliberation they bring full measure concentration to this morning meal the musical clatter of Ursula's laugh carries me into the year's rotation while Keith spatula in hand rediscovers how to read heat in the ecstatic jump of water bright beads across the pan |