Camp Porridge

This week's gallery is Breakfast, and as I've mentioned before it is a very special time for me.  It started when I was very young when Dad and I made it our special occasion.  And it has remained one of my favourite things. 

Everyday we sit down to breakfast together no matter what we are doing that day.  It's something I made routine when COG was very small and because we don't break that routine it stays.  It's a chance for us to talk, to relate, to share. If it's Friday morning and we are all tired, wanting Saturday to be a day early, then we probably just grump at each other.

My most favourite breakfast is a relaxed 5* affair with papers and endless pots of tea and toast. But second to that I will take camp porridge.

They don't call me 3 Bowls Kelloggsville for nothing.

It may be because it's been stirred slowly for a long time by a sleepy Guide more intent on catching the early fire warmth than thickening porridge.

It may be the extra can of condensed milk that gives it that special camp taste.

Or it may be the wood smoke and the cool morning air that leaves you wanting something warm and sweet to start the day.  But I'll keep on eating it until the pot is empty.

Interestingly, I have no photos of camp breakfast at all.  I think it's because I'm a little cold, a little sleepy, wishing the kettle would boil a little faster, then sat in my camp chair, hands clutching a mug, hollering instructions to sleepy Guides or dizzy Brownies or sloth like Rangers.  The last thing on my mind is 'ooo, must take a piccy'.  In fact I find that a lot with Guiding, I am so there, in the moment that Social Media stops, the phone is unheard and the camera sits unused.

This is a good thing sometimes.