I know, I know, it’s a whole food, it’s good for you.

But I’ll let you in on a little secret: steel cut oats are just a bunch of high maintenance whiny babies needing constant hand-holding. There. Said it.

Sure, the name sounds all tough, Steel Cut, and they look tough (if one got in my running shoe, I’d limp home), but clearly, someone is overcompensating there.

If you get the regular kind (I even got the Irish version; they sound fun, right?), versus the “quick,” you’re supposed to boil them for nine days an hour. Oh, and stir frequently, too. Stir me, don’t walk away, stir me, come baaaack. Waaaahhhhh.

My nine year old is more independent, even with all her braid my hair and feed me dinner and buy me new socks.

Why would I deal with the morning equivalent of risotto? Yours truly has lost count of the number of burned steel cut oats incidences around here.

Then, there’s the slime factor when it undoubtedly boils over when you slip away to let the dog out and in and out. Slime on the stove, slime in the microwave (yes, *gasp* she tried the “quick steel cut oats” in there). Yuck. Leave that slime too long and congratulations, you’ve created a new, impervious shellack.

I’ve even made it in advance, carefully, in the evening when I was practically sober more attentive and focused, but in the morning I had a steel cut oat brick to enjoy. Yuck again.

I’m currently eating the “quick” kind which surprise! boiled over with the lid on (okay, it was another pan, not a lid, because I’d have to bend over and open a cabinet to hunt for the proper lid). And yet even with half the water sizzling on the burner, the oats managed to end up as “oat soup” possibly eye-balling the water measurement at the start is discouraged.

But it’s good for me, right just like every other soul-crushing, heart-shattering moment in life?

I just don’t think I’m strong enough for breakfast anymore. Where’s a Pop Tart when you need one?

Do you have a trick for cooking steel cut oats?

This morning I was reading with my back to the window and suddenly felt the urge to turn around, like some foreign energy was boring into the back of my head. Was I being watched?
Yup. I had a whole judging panel flight of those giant, band-tailed pigeons looking down at me (this shot was taken while I sat, lazy wildlife photographer strikes again.

Waiting. Coo‘ing. Waiting…

Is it just me and my propensity for drama but does this remind you of anything?Yeah, creepy. It was just like Hitchcock’s The Birds. And I live near a school.

But at least with these guys, I had a sneaking suspicion why they lurked.
At least, I hope it’s the seeds they want…

If you don’t see any more blog posts from me, well, it was a pretty decent run. You were mostly awesome although would it kill you to comment from time to time? Thanks for the memories. Becca, be a good dog. Hubs, turns out you can have the whole garage after all. Kid, there’s M&M’s hidden in the soup pot. I love you, Mom.

And also a toofastforphoto hawk. I sometimes wonder if I am offering seeds to the birds or birds to the hawk…

If you couldn’t figure out who was hiding last week, here he is out and proud, American Goldfinch in his mating colors.
Sure, he looks all cool and collected, but he had to make an effort as those seeds got lower in the container. Streeeetch. Goldfinch tippy toes. But it worked.Nearby, but not on the feeder (perhaps smarter and safer and harder to get a clear picture of?), a Yellow-Rumped Warbler.He was zigzagging all over the branches… under leaves, snacking, a real busy body. What’s funny to me is I had it noted in the bird book that he was here April ’09 and ’12, and here he is again. The dude is consistent.

Another jumpy set wouldn’t even hang around if I got anywhere close to the windows, Band-Tailed Pigeons. They’re big and piggy and very skittish. I like to hear them coo‘ing from the trees. Here’s a closer shot I’ve posted before. I had to sit and wait, very still with my feet up while sipping tea like a real wildlife photographer. And way up high, an oldie but a goodie, right? the Bald Eagle. While down on the ground, ignoring every bird except that danged woodpecker who taunts chirps real loud…the lazy, spoiled wirehaired pointing griffon.

Life is good.

Look who’s pretending to be shy on his arrival to our island this spring! He ain’t foolin’ anyone. Do you know him?
More feathers to come next week…

And yes, this makes me officially the laziest wildlife photographer in the world, thanks for reminding me. *crunches corn chips* *sips hard cider* *click* *sip* *click*