I noticed the cluster of small pot plants as I sat down at a table. We had just entered the small coffee shop located in a building on the edge of the old downtown district in Hattiesburg, MS, the city of my childhood.
I focused most of my attention, though, on my husband and the coffee shop owner. Would there be any of the Saturday-only, made-from-scratch, fresh-baked cinnamon rolls left?
Those cinnamon rolls are my reason for visiting Southbound Bagel every chance we get, which has been once or twice a year for several years.
We were in luck. A single cinnamon roll was left. As usual, it covered a small plate. And it was so outrageously packed with brown sugar, cinnamon and icing that it was definitely a violation of all orders about healthy eating. In fact, hubby and I have learned to split one of the treats.
I even have difficulty finishing my half. I do, however, always bravely soldier on to the finish. Oh, who am I kidding? There is no courage involved, only gluttonous ecstasy.
I closed my eyes and savored the gooey goodness near the center. When I opened my eyes, the collection of plants in small pots came into focus. Insect-eating plants right there by my cinnamon roll! I could even see the water in the throat of the pitcher plant. Thankfully, no victims were visible in either the pitcher plant or an adjacent sundew.