{A quaint series on the small things making my work and life happier and easier.}

I’ve had oatmeal every morning for the last four years, at least.

I had it all down pat: my favorite brand and flavor, how much water to add into the bowl to achieve optimal mushiness while avoiding the dreaded microwave overflow situation (amateur hour), the ideal add-ins for maximum flavor, the whole deal.

And then Sarah sort of sent my whole breakfast situation in a tailspin; turns out instant rolled oats are essentially drek for you as compared to the much purer steel cut oats.

Well, that wasn’t any real shocker; instant anything is probably never the best, huh?

So I was all, “Yes! Let’s hop on board the steel cut train! This is going to be great!”

Cut to me stirring my life away, appalled that after three minutes of laborious babysitting, those damn oats still needed about twenty seven more minutes to be fully hatched.

Turns out that what steel cut oats require is much more akin to actual cooking than to microwaving.

So it was to be an adjustment period.

I prevailed, I’m proud to say, and have been rocking the S.C.O. for like, two whole months now.

The downside–other than the fact that you can add your whole pantry’s worth of syrups and fruits and such and still have that stuff taste like absolutely nothing not that I’m resentful or anything–is the occasional stirring the cooking process involves.

You know: you stir, put the spoon down, walk away for two centuries, come back, stir some more, put the spoon back down, repeat until you’re out of time to eat.

Each stirring, the spoon getting placed on the bare naked countertop was resulting in a very non-LS situation–an area of caked on oaty water that, try as one might, was almost impossible to remove.

Then one day I happened to my local general store (really, that’s what it is–those hipsters, you know?) to procure some treats from their candy dispensaries. For a friend. But really.

Wouldn’t you know it, just across from the jar of salt water taffy was the most Live Simply spoon rest.

I scooped it up, skipped home, and have been using it for my steel cut spoon since.

No more countertop decoupaging.

And that’s the story of one small thing making me happy.