When summer arrives, at least around here, regular routines are pretty much out the window. Bedtimes get later, we play outside after supper almost everyday, clothes don't get ironed ever (which is only a little less often then they normally get ironed), we're more relaxed about sugar and t.v. It's pretty much paradise.
There are drawbacks to the lack of routines however... at least in the eating department. In the hot weather I stop making some of our/my favourites. This summer I didn't make one batch of my beloved granola, which is a fundamental staple for a gluten-freebie like me.
On Friday I could stand it no longer. In went the oats, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, sesame seeds, ginger, cinnamon etc and out came my lovely, gorgeous granola. Breakfast has been delightful ever since.
Granted, it's difficult to spot the granola under the mountain of peaches. Here is my thought on peaches: God reached perfection the day s/he created the peach. Everything after that was downhill.
My morning granola bowl is constructed thusly: several large spoonfuls of plain yogurt. The yogurt MUST NOT contain any gelatin, cornstarch or other ingredients that make me say "blech!". I want pure yogurt and I do not want the container to say anything about low-fat. Low-fat yogurt means fillers to make up for the creaminess. That's where gelatin and cornstarch come in. No. Thanks.
After the yogurt comes the granola, then whatever fresh fruit I have on hand. Today I had this mammoth beauty *in* hand (as proof of its formidable girth):
I love me a Niagara peach. I wouldn't kick it out of bed for eating crackers.
I top my lovely bowl off with a drizzle of maple syrup.
After that, I cozy up with a "Hello. how you doin'?!" and dig in. But not before this is also ready at the standby:
And those two cheeky birds keep me company, looking on forlornly as they contemplate an existence without mouths.