Sunrise and Fancy Oats in Portland

Working night shift can often make you feel like the following: zombie, vampire, troll, walking-dead, character from a Shakespearean tragedy….you get the picture. However, every so often this happens at about 0615:

No, that is not the Lonely Mountain, that would be Mt. Hood

Being on the opposite schedule from the rest of the world does have its benefits, and that view is one of them.

The Mountain peak cast a shadow, which was pretty cool

I drive home, hunger winning out over sleep on my personal Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.

“Get up, I’m hungry.” I text my friend and fellow night-shifter. “I need sustenance!”







Open Scene: Le Petite Provence

It’s packed, we give our name to the hostess and I order coffee. Instead of playing the game of human sardines, we take a walk down the off-beat street of Alberta. A grab-bag of restaurants, shops, and residencies, Alberta St. has easily become one of my favorite places to wander in the pitter-pattering rains of Portland, OR. But let’s skip to the good part: food.


We are seated 30 minutes later in the balcony section of the restaurant and order.


I take a ‘lil looksie at the menu, though I know exactly what I want. Oats.

I have had many a delicious breakfast in my days, but this is definitely top 10. Bruleed Berry Oatmeal.

This is what tired + hungry + exceedingly happy looks like

Amanda ordered Banana French toast.


Pretty good, but come on……

Oh sweet grandma food of the gods!

It did not survive.

Who ate my oats??


We were full and happy. The end.


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