The sounds and smells of cooking filled the air. Daughter was cooking hashbrowns, ham, and eggs this morning while whistling a tune she'd heard from a traveling caravan. It was a happy enough tune, she liked it because it made her think of the sea she had never seen.<br/>"Time to eat, Prince." she'd thought about his name and decided she couldn't pronounce it. Prince would have to do. "I made something with meat in it for you. Honeyed Ham."