Sunday 14 September 2014

September Breakfast

One thing I love about September is ripe peaches. End of August, and then into September, peaches are available and at their best. Any other time of the year, peaches are horrible little round tasteless orbs of hardness, like a croquet ball. One of my favourite breakfasts at this time of year involves oatmeal, cinnamon, a cut up peach and yogurt, preferably vanilla yogurt.

I heat up water in the kettle, put some "instant" oatmeal in a bowl with a good sprinkling of cinnamon, pour on enough boiling water to soak the oatmeal, then cut up a peach, and top the whole thing with a few dollops of yogurt. It is heavenly and filling.
Watching the proceedings from the windowsill is Nelly, once again waiting to be let in. It was quite brisk this morning.
Husband and I went to TSC for two bolts with which to finish the front brakes project on the vehicle I drive, and for the biggest amount of mouse poison we can legally buy without a license. Already I am hearing the mice skittering around in the walls of our 100 + year old house. Our other cat, the mouser, is gifting us mice (full, partial, and unidentified internal organ) on a regular basis, but there is no way he can keep up with an acre of property surrounded by soybean fields and fallow land full of lovely weeds.
We have had enough mouse damage over the years to things such as riding lawn mowers and the bottom rubber sweep of a garage door to the shed that I have no sympathy for the little buggers.

1 comment:

  1. I love oats with cinnamon, but prefer to use the slow cooking variety. Your peaches 'n yoghurt variation sounds yummy!

    Your kitty clearly knows what's best for him, catching all those freely available mice for dinners. I raw feed our five dogs and would do the same if we had cats.

    How lovely to live in a house with so much history, even if it comes with mice. My daughter and son-in-law recently stayed in an old farm cottage and were kept awake both nights by some super althlete mice. She repacked her weekend bag twice, to make doubly sure none had decided to stowaway with her.