Ode to the Brothers Crumb

Oh brothers crumb, how do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.

You arise on Saturday mornings,
before the dawn turns over in it's bed,
to make me tasty bread,

And schlep it all the way down from Logan
so that I simply have to zip down to Salt Lake
to the Saturday farmers market
to enjoy the tasty country sourdough goodness.

Crunchy, crisp crust tears apart to revel your
doughy goodness.
I can eat you whole,
all by myself,
devour your tangy goodness,
with a slice of cheese,
or toasted and topped with scrambled eggs,
or perhaps I will brush you across olive oil and balsamic with a pinch of pepper.

and that is to speak nothing of your goat bar,
which truly requires a post of it's own

but oh, my brothers crumb, how I love you.
For above all you bring to my week,
pure
and
simple
JOY