Everyone needs a groove and a dog food bowl.

We are taking a break from settling in at the new homestead, to housesit back in our rocky mountain playground.  We’ve been going pretty much non-stop for a couple of months preparing to move, moving, renovating, unpacking, and finally (hope this isn’t too premature) putting the finishing touches on our new (to us) home.  Originally, skiing was in the picture, but some knee pain is keeping me off the slopes this trip until a plan of action for it becomes apparent, so we are in a slow it down/take it as it comes mode and we will just enjoy being here instead of go-go-go (but its only day two-ha!).

We will be entrusted with a couples home that is two doors down from our first housesit in August.  We met them on that trip and their two precious Westies we will be caring for.  Their home is also on the golf course, but buried under a few feet of snow at the moment.  A sad, but pretty sight nonetheless.

Until our housesit begins in a few days, we are hanging out at a friend’s place getting acclimated to the altitude and the scenery that never lets you down.  So while we are here, getting our mountain fix, I will try to share some scenes and thoughts as the days trickle by.

Nature's way of keeping these bicycles safe from being stolen til spring.

What better way than to start with breakfast?  Those of you that know me, really know me, know that cereal was an addiction for me.  During a certain dark period of my early adulthood, I could be caught eating large quantities out of a dog food bowl, lovingly given to me, yet enabled my problem with multiple variations of cereal that came pre-sugared and naked.

Some 30 plus years later, without any rehab, I’ve wrestled my intake of Sugar Frosted Flakes, Sugar Pops, and way back in the day…Captain Crunch (among others)… to a manageable, semi-normal serving size of Kashi’s Heart to Heart Oat Flakes & blueberry clusters.  That is most days.  But a few years ago (and I have shared this before) Snoqualmie Falls Lodge Old Fashioned Pancake and Waffle Mix found me.  A taste bud marriage made in culinary heaven, that will last as long as humanly possible.

So back to, “What better way than to start with breakfast?”  Whether at home, traveling on the road, or on a housesit, this blessed mix accompanies me if at all possible.  In previous blogs I’ve eluded to its presence, but until now have not shared a more comprehensive take of this gift from above.  You see, when I have one of these gems for breakfast (blueberry pancake or waffle), it just didn’t start when I woke up and felt that empty feeling from the night before, having topped off dinner with a slice of apple streusel pie-heated (half price, compliments of the local grocery store), paired with a traditional scoop or three of vanilla ice cream…no, it usually begins a day, sometimes two days before.  It is my break from Kashi and shakes my intestines up a bit, variety and all that.  So yesterday, we got our legs under us at altitude and got out and got a little fresh air (shopping!).  I got the feeling that today would be a good Snoqualmie day.  Didn’t say anything to Beth, but in my mind I knew it was coming.

As the lights went out on the way to slumber land, I mentioned to Beth I felt like a blueberry pancake in the morning, if she was interested.  She is usually good for a smallish one, but without syrup (that’s a whole other chapter). 

Morning arrives as it usually does (thank goodness and I think that everyday!) and as I check my extremities to begin loosening them up in preparation for getting vertical, Snoqualmie becomes my focus.  I say nothing to Beth, because I don’t’ want my addiction to sound worse than it is.  The process begins.

I won’t go so far as to metaphor this whole affair as if it were a dance, that’s a little creepy.  But more of a groove I slip into.  I will spare you the details, but hit some important highlights.  This is an add only water mix…no eggs, oil, whatever, so it is right up there with my ability level in the kitchen.  My measurement tool is not a measuring cup or measuring spoons…it’s a fork.  I know that 5 fork-fulls, makes the perfect size pancake or waffle (for me).  It’s not giant or too small, it’s just right.  While the mix awaits the griddle to warm up, the blueberries get washed and de-stemmed (if there are any to be found).  Then they are scooped up and with a little love-squeeze, dropped into the batter.  That little finger hug shows my appreciation for their wonderful addition to the trifecta of taste that completes one pancake…the mix, the syrup, and the blueberries.

Finger hugs all around.  Thanks for being so tasty!

This wonderful slurry awaits its turn on the griddle.

The batter that is now overloaded with blueberries is ladled onto the griddle, and the rest is pretty much salivary history.  A couple of eggs and maybe either milk or orange juice compliments the setting.  But the pièce de résistance is the Log Cabin (No High Fructose Corn Syrup) Original Syrup – A family tradition since 1887!  Log Cabin is some baggage I evidently have carried around since my childhood; it’s just not the same without it.  What I marvel at every time is how little time it takes to eat it, compared with preparing it.  But I enjoy the beginning, the middle, and the end, each just as much…well maybe the end more!  So you see, it is not just making a pancake, its not “a dance”, it’s a groove.  And I look forward to getting my groove on in another 4 or 5 days.

A picture never tasted so good!

My Zen from the Road:  I miss my old dog food bowl I ate cereal from…or maybe it’s the fact I could eat copious amounts of cereal and my body kept its awesomeness…at least until I hit 30!  Either one, it just goes to show you we can’t and don’t stay the same (physically and other-wise).  We are not made that way.  Whether it is incorporating a morning routine to get your joints moving before jumping out of bed to greet the day, or maybe just rolling out of bed, trying not to go to the floor in the process, and accepting another day is upon you…we adapt, we change, and we are the better for it or at least we should try to be.  We are a work in progress.  And when we are done, well…I guess we will be able to eat out of dog food bowls again.

On our way out, we stopped for gas
in Goodland and had a moment with Van Gogh's
"Sunflowers," Kansas style.