News and Opinion from Sisters, Oregon

On Mornings

The dawn. Slowly emerging from the cozy wraps of night, invaded by logic and checkpoints, releasing abstractions, gathering thoughts and tensions, slipping into our daytime face, we rise; we shine.

This is the hour of most rituals. We mark the day here in our most personal space, before the door swings open and we are launched out onto the great dance floor and the bright lights of day.

If the world was different, simpler, we would act only according to our best impulses and not suffer imposing time schedules and the subsequent, undignified, potentially sickening tones of alarm clocks.

Nor would we be troubled by the moral issue of sleeping in, as presented by the typical chipper early bird.

I learned from my father about the categorically cheery morning person. He springs up early, whistling, enthused, full of aphorisms and affection, ready to dash out for doughnuts for our reunions.

He is not riotous in the evening, however, going to bed happily before any of his grandchildren. It is a rhythm we identify with him.

In a twist of fate, I inherited from him, not the jovial morning persona, but his sturdy Irish legs.

My mother, who boogies all out with young men at parties, and reads every word of the newspaper late into the night while the house settles, is discrete on arising.

Tender and quiet, receptive to coffee, she carefully wends her way, on her terrific, long stemmy legs, to a chair in the sunshine where she collects, one by one, her thoughts and all the hugs and kisses.

Night people who are required to get up early are in a definite grey area. Psychic time and linear time may not merge until natural time, which I have found to be is about ten o'clock. By this hour many things have been said and done.

A person who has not yet caught the thread of the day might have been watching a clan of ravens careening in their updraft while leaving key ingredients out of the professional muffins.

Prone to lapses, they may appear at work fully dressed and also in their lightweight, long, warm Chinese bathrobe.

They may have driven their children, poor souls, to school on a national holiday with the emergency brake engaged.

Combining diverse elements over a simple but elegant meal tends to mitigate the extremes. This, I contend, is the real reason for breakfast.

Therefore, for the sake of family harmony radiating out to peace among the nations, try making your own Meusli, a Swiss tradition that is available packaged nowadays, but is much more interesting prepared fresh. It's also a good camping breakfast.

In the evening, measure out 1/2 Cup regular, not quick rolled oats per person. Add about 2/3 C. milk, cover and refrigerate.

In the morning, add a dash of salt, cinnamon, a drop of vanilla and a dollop of honey and turn the patrons loose with toppings of coconut, raisins, wheat germ for virtue, dried fruits, date sugar, sesame seeds, and grated apple.

Add fresh fruit--nectarines are peaking beautifully and they come readily off the stone--and get in gear. The world is waiting.

Weather courtesy of the Sisters Ranger District, US Forest Service

 

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