strawberry baked oatmeal

There are a few things I am sure of in this life:

  1.  I will never, ever learn how to parallel park.
  2. Cats should have been left off the ark.
  3. I love brunch.

Per number 3, I present to you: Strawberry Baked Oatmeal. It was:

  1. Simple.
  2. Tasty.
  3. A hit with the masses. (And by masses, I mean, the three other people who ate it.)
  4. Please see number 3. (Due to numbers 1 and 2, there aren’t even any pictures of the finished product. I have, however, substituted the missing photo with a picture of scrambled eggs, which have nothing to do with oatmeal, but are, in general, awesome.)



  • 2 cups old fashioned rolled oats
  • 1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 tablespoon grated orange zest
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup walnuts, chopped (Blegh. If I wanted my food to taste like a tree, I’d gnaw on one.)
  • 1 cup sliced strawberries
  • 1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 2 cups reduced-fat (2%) milk
  • 1 large egg
  • 3 tablespoons butter, melted
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
  • 1 ripe banana, peeled, 1/2-inch slices
  1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F. Generously spray the inside of a 10-1/2 by 7 inch baking dish (or 8-inch by 8-inch square baking dish) with cooking spray and place on a baking sheet.
  2. In a large bowl, mix together the oats, sugar, baking powder, orange zest, cinnamon, salt, half the walnuts, half the strawberries and half the chocolate. Add to prepared baking dish. Arrange the remaining strawberries, walnuts and chocolate on top of the oats. Then, scatter the banana slices.
  3. In another large bowl, whisk together the milk, egg, butter and vanilla extract. Then, pour over oats and fruit. Gently shimmy and shake the baking dish to help the milk mixture go throughout the oats.
  4. Bake oatmeal for 35 to 40 minutes or until the top is golden brown and the milk mixture has set.
  5. For an extra tasty top, sprinkle a tablespoon or so of extra brown sugar on top then place back in the oven under the broiler and broil for 20-30 seconds.



no Lutheranism here

Probably most of you read this blog for the Lutheran stuff.

Let’s get real.

Probably no one’s reading it except for my mom.

{Hi, Mom!}

That’s a long way of saying: I’m sorry to disappoint, but tonight there’s nothing remotely Lutheran about this post. Instead, it’s just a little sneak peek at my apartment. And it’s a little sneak peek at my apartment because when I’m supposed to be writing, but it’s not working, I have a tendency to rearrange.

It doesn’t cure writer’s block, but it makes my house cuter.

So there’s that.


That’s my grandma’s desk. She got it for her wedding in 1950. She’s fallen asleep in Christ now, but thanks to a heroic rescue that involved my oldest sister getting shoved through a bathroom window (it’s a long story), the desk was saved, and it’s mine now! DSC_3790v2

I love peacock feathers. And books. And vintage things. And blue.

Ok, I love a lot of things.

Most things.

Like donuts. And country music. The color red. Wildflowers.

There I go again.


I found this sign in a thrift store. It’s odd and slightly weird.

I was homeschooled. I’m also odd and slightly weird.

That should explain a lot.DSC_3801v2

The picture on top of this bookcase is one of only a few I have of me and my grandmother. I’m standing in about six-inch deep water in a life vest while she tries to con me into, you know, getting my knees wet.

I love that her arms are stretched out to me. It makes a girl feel safe just remembering that. DSC_3803v2

Have we discussed my love of Iowa? And red?

Well, we have now.DSC_3805v2

I also collect Pyrex. The turquoise set on the top shelf was my grandma’s. Those are the ones I treasure the most. The rest are from friends and family, and it makes me smile every time someone comes into my house, sees this shelf, and squeals, “My mom used to have those bowls!” or “I used to eat my grandma’s casserole out of that same dish!”

An instant conversation starter.

And the cowboy boots don’t hurt either.DSC_3810v2

I also love Jesus.

And pictures of Jesus.

And Jesus on the cross.

And  racks to hold hymnals that confess Jesus.

Anything related to Jesus really.


The cow picture is on loan from my dad . . .

. . . who happens to be a pig farmer.

Go figure.

“It’s an enigma inside of a riddle wrapped in a mystery.”  – Winston Churchill

{Ok. That might have been a paraphrase.}DSC_3813v2

This is my office where I sit, think, write literary genius, and make great headway on my book.


Just kidding.

It’s actually where I sit, think, panic, and freak out about not making enough headway on my book.

Basically the same thing. DSC_3821v2

I also stink at bowling and pool.

Which is, of course, the exact reason I have a pool balls and a bowling pin in my guest bathroom.



A green shutter.

Because, really, what apartment doesn’t need one of those?


I also can’t read maps.

But I do love a good bunting and that’s kind of the same.

Except for not really at all.


My friend Heather assures me that I can’t kill off succulents.

I assure her that I can.

But at least they’ll look cute in Pyrex as they lay dying.
DSC_3811Disco balls in the kitchen: that’s a thing, right?

Every night’s a dance party at the Dorr household.

Or maybe just the nights that the smoke alarms don’t go off.

Either way.

DSC_3818And finally, books.

And light.

And light.

And books.

What more do you need REALLY?


So, there it is. It’s not Lutheranism. It’s not theology. It’s just a cute place with a happy girl who loves Jesus. Is that enough? Can that be a thing? I think so.

Over and out.