They are your much anticipated morning indulgence, a break from your usual chaste breakfast quinoa. 

You fry up some hash browns while sipping perfectly dark, rich coffee. Corelli plays in the background as if in harmony to the birds' song outside your window.  Then ham is next in the pan.  You like it slightly seared, the heat caramelizing the outer layers of the sweet meat.  You sift through the news while your morning breakfast cooks and take a moment to drift to your porch, savoring a lazy Monday morning, a rare treat gobbled up by teachers and students alike as the semester barrels forward.

Back in the kitchen, your hash browns are perfectly crisp, your ham expertly cooked.  Carefully, you crack two eggs over the skillet, enjoying the sizzling noises they make as they hit the pan.  You give them a quick flip, careful not to break the golden yokes. 

You plate up.

At the table, you liberally sprinkle pepper on your eggs, then just a touch of salt.  Your fork breaks into the tender yolks, spilling their thick liquid all over your plate.  The hash browns soak up the juice, the ham acts as the perfect salty-sweet balance to the savory eggs.  You devour every last piece of your ham and eggs, washed down with coffee until all that is left are faint golden streaks on your plate, a few wet coffee grounds in your cup, and Corelli in the air.