Enter: blueberry buttermilk pancakes.
My go-to breakfast these past few weeks has been an English muffin with a schmear of strawberry jam and a handful of grapes; so I felt I'd earned a little bit of early morning indulgence.
Poor Bobby has been fighting the flu for the past four days so I knew I was on my own with this short stack (which I'm totally not complaining about).
Odd as it was for a July morning, I wrapped a fleece blanket around my shoulders, kicked my feet up on the patio table and enjoyed some piping hot, perfectly sweet blueberry pancakes all by my lonesome in the crisp, morning air. If this is any indication of what autumn in Ontario will be like, I can't wait.