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Oatmeal takes me to Dordogne, where I woke up every morning to Lucien's loud laughter, Elizabeth's hushed tones, and oatmeal covered on the stove.
We ate it every morning, unsweetened with a spoonful of peanut butter. At first it tasted plain, but I quickly began to crave the simplicity of it. I'd eat as I looked out the window to a green field scattered with wildflowers. I'd think about the day to come; river-swimming, fruit harvests, blackberry-picking, maybe a long walk or two.
My time in Dordogne with Lucien, Elizabeth and Kevin was so special -- life-changing in retrospect -- that it feels important to honor it and them. Even if it's just for a quick second in the morning as I eat my bowl of oatmeal.
10 comments:
Isn't it amazing how the simplest food can invoke some of the most powerful memories?
What a lovely post.
I love it. I feel the same way about tomato juice and my time as a nanny in Spain!
Libby, that's so funny - I noticed in Spain how everyone drinks tomato juice out of the box for breakfast...
Yum I love oatmeal with peanutbutter !
Don't you think it is something about oatmeal/porridge-and the time it takes in the morning,which makes you slow down-special. For me now-it is just a weekend breakfast. But I should take a bit more time every morning-to get ready for the day.
What a wonderful memory. The oatmeal sounds delicious! xxoo
I've never had oatmeal and peanut butter! Interesting!
It's wonderful that you've looked back on your time in Europe and explored your feelings and experiences in your blog. It's great to read. :)
beautifully evocative photos, as always.
i like that perspective of honoring it - a bit each morning.
Oatmeal. It is one of my favourite meals. xxx
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