Oats

Well, friends, it's been a very long time since there was news of this magnitude from Near Philadelphia.

The other day, Himself asked if I'd ever heard of overnight oats. I had. Back when I worked at the school for children with autism, the wonderful teachers there talked about them. Overnight oats, I mean. They talked about them. Once in a while, a teacher would be quickly consuming them at her desk while waiting for school to start. I paid this no mind. None at all. Because these same teachers were also prone to bringing in enormous Mason jars full of some kind of gross extremely healthy-looking salads for their lunches.  One of them brought in a gallon bottle of water that she'd drink every drop of during the day. They'd speak casually about "going for a run," and -- worse  -- signing up for a 5K. Perhaps you can imagine how this sounded to someone who liked to sew, read, and make cookies.

To be fair, once in a while Jennifer would bake a loaf of banana bread with chocolate chips to bring in and leave in the office for everyone to consume. It didn't take long. That did my heart good.

So, anyway, I figured that overnight oats were part of the health extremism culture I was on the fringes of, and merrily went on my way (and sometimes bringing in scones from Panera which they also enjoyed in record time).

I told Himself that I had heard of overnight oats but didn't know anything about them. I didn't add that I'd like to keep it that way. He said he'd stumbled over a recipe that -- apparently -- Princess Diana had for breakfast daily and he was curious about it. So I went a-googling and found explanations and recipes and prepared a three-page report for him and thought, well, that will be that.

Yesterday was his day to do a grocery run. As usual, he found and brought home everything that was on the list. As usual, he found and brought home some things that were not on the list. I didn't think anything of it. 

But last night, eleven o'clock came and went and I could hear him puttering around in the kitchen. Yup. At the store, he'd picked up some oats and some pecans, and some other suspicious things (though no chia seeds [yet]).

This morning, instead of my usual yogurt with granola, I was served Himself's Initial Overnight Oats, replete with pecans, honey, grated apple, and berries.

DAMN, it was good!