An Ode to Mornings

Now, I am one of those rare breeds who, get this, actually enjoys the mornings.  I’m not the type of person who dreads the sound of an alarm at 7 AM and subsequently drags herself out of bed, rushes out the door, and unwittingly starts the day.  I am, on the other hand, enamored with the daybreak; smitten with the sunrise; captivated by the break of dawn.

Trying to explain the magic of the morning to a non-morning person can be nearly impossible.  It simply does not make sense to them why anyone would want to wake up before 11 on a weekend.  These are the people for which the 11 AM college brunches were made; the same brunch times that drove me crazy freshman year.  Here I was, 7 or 8 AM on a Sunday, ready to get my day going, and the dining hall is not open for hours.  Why would people want to start their days at 11 AM?  Half the day is already gone!  Or should I say, the best part of the day is already gone.

Here’s my theory about morning people: we like the feeling of opportunity; that the day is not yet started and the best is yet to come.  The world is sleepy, allowing time to wake up slowly and thoughtfully meditate on breakfast before entering the busy world.  Waking up and running in the morning has a calming, almost spiritual feel to it, the bustling world transforming into a peaceful escape for a few hours.  There’s nothing better than waking up, clearing my head with a nice long run on the quiet trails, kept company by the occasional deer here or there, and coming back to my whole day ahead of me.  Or better yet, going out for a pre-dawn jaunt, catching the sunrise while doing a couple laps on the track.  The best part about running in the morning?  If it’s my only run of the day: wearing real clothes.

Arguably the best part of the morning, in my opinion, is the food.  Now this may be because breakfast is the one meal I can say, with confidence, that I have mastered, but waking up to cook breakfast is as good a reason as any to get my butt out of bed.  Anyone that knows me knows about my religious oatmeal habit obsession.  Flexing my creative muscles each day to make a new oatmeal creation gets my brain going, and makes my breakfasts normally delicious (with a few exceptions- coffee oatmeal, not my greatest idea).  And after my morning coffee, I’m pretty sure my productivity hits its high point for the day.

Now that I have started semi-training for cross country, my normally slow-paced, relaxing mornings will be little by little transformed into productive pieces of my day, with a lot to get in before I work at 11, but for now, I am relishing my time to think, eat, and drink coffee in the sunny window in the kitchen.

Peace, love, and oatmeal.

Advertisements

Breakfast and Quotes

Image

Gettin’ fancy for breakfast!

It feels so nice to finally have our house in some sort of working order.  I guess I have done the moving thing several times, but I never really appreciated how much work it took to get a house organized and put together!  This morning we had a real sit-down breakfast with all three of us housemates, and we kind of went all-out.  Melissa tried her hand at making an omelet, which she had never done before– she cracked the eggs into the pan and goes “Oh, whoops, how do I make an omelet?”  The “undomestic goddess” figured it out, though.  Only she would find a way to have veggies at breakfast.

I erred more on the side of fruity, and went for the French toast.  I used whole-wheat bread, dipped in an egg, milk, sugar, cinnamon, and then grilled it in a skillet.  I topped it with a Greek yogurt, honey, and cinnamon mixture and finished it off with sliced strawberries and sliced bananas.  And of course served with lots of coffee.  I have seriously been loving using the kitchen, and have been deemed the “domestic” one of the group.  Even Melissa commented about what a good wife I would make (for a feminist).  Pish posh, I’d say I just like to think of myself as independent.

It feels like I have so many stories to tell about our life in Oxford, and I have nowhere to start, so I’ll just throw down some quotes:

“Uhhh…Melissa, that’s a red light”

Me to Melissa on our way to WalMart for one of our many trips there.  We are just about to roll through a red light at a major intersection before I caught it, and the always-prudent driver just goes, “Oh, I thought it was a stop sign!”  So basically we almost died (not really, it’s Oxford in the summer).

“I’m soooo hungry- let me see if I can catch some feta cheese in my mouth”

Melissa in cooking lab.  This class is three hours long, and it’s dinnertime (5 PM dinners at Martin are no more).  Lucky girls that we are, we got to cook pizza on whole grain crust in class, and decided to do a supremo pizza, with turkey pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms, olives, mozzarella, parmesan, and feta.  As we are attempting to prepare the toppings, Melissa says this to me, and I go for it, and she makes a spectacular catch, followed by a celebratory cheer, looked upon questionably by our professor.  We attempt to explain ourselves by using the “we are starving college students who haven’t gone grocery shopping yet and thus we’re really hungry” excuse.  Don’t quite know how that was received.

“I don’t think the washer works.  Or the dryer.”

Oh so many Melissa quotes.  She had never really used the type of washer that we have in the house, so the first time she tried to do laundry it was kind of a disaster.  Long story short, she ended up with clothes that weren’t completely washed (detergent does not go in the bleach dispenser), clothes that weren’t dry, and a bra that completely broke in half.  Like it was two pieces.  Not completely effective any more.

“I just thought it was funny that you put a rack on her rack”

Image

#socollege