In Michigan, at the end of September, it’s dark at 6 am.
It’s dark when I leave for work at 7 am.
It’s dark now during my entire half hour drive, although on clear mornings I might see a sliver of blindingly dazzling sunlight brightening the eastern horizon.
Joe programs the coffee machine in the evening, so when people start meandering downstairs, there is a strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee trying to bring some cheer to our silent assembly.
Last night, I remembered to start a pot of oatmeal. It cooked slowly, through the night.
Here is how: I poured a cup of steel cut oats into a pot; added 3 cups water and covered it tightly; placed it in the oven and let it cook overnight at 225 degrees.
We were greeted this morning by the smell of fresh coffee and a delicious aroma of slowly cooked oatmeal.
I scoped some oatmeal into a bowl, then poured a bit of almond milk to make it thinner. I added a swirl of honey and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
It helped, it really helped.