I love mornings. I have learned to love my inability to sleep in. Sitting in the living room with my current book and a cup of coffee is sweet serenity. Even if only for a short time. It’s something my mom used to do. I remember waking up early, cause I always have, and walking upstairs to see her reading a book in her blue wing back chair with her ‘coffee’. Sometimes I would sit in the chair across from her and try to do the same thing. I was never able to keep still and quiet. I didn’t understand what she was doing or why she enjoyed it until now.
I sit here and I can now completely understand and fully appreciate the morning quiet. I’d sit on the porch if there wasn’t an imminent possibility that my feet would get licked to death by the dog. It’s quiet here. No kids awake. No husband asking me what my plans for the day are. Not that I mind that, but I’m not yet ready in the early morning hours to think about my plans for the day. I want to get lost in the life of my current heroine and my cup a joe. If only for a few minutes.
It’s usually not long after I wake up that I hear Zoie calling to us from her crib downstairs. This is a special time for her as well. Zach is usually the first to run down the stairs to rescue her from the confinement of the white bars of her little baby jail. She greets him with a huge toothless smile letting him
Know that she slept well and is ready to start her day. This is their special time. I rarely get greeted with the same smile if I am to get her first in the morning. It’s her special time wither dad and she knows it.
I sit in the living room, just feet from the kitchen, and can hear her jabbering from her high chair. No doubt telling her daddy all about her dreams. She doesn’t stop talking for at least the first half an hour. I often wish I knew what she was really saying. Oh to be lost in the dream world of a ten month old.
This morning we are off to pick green beans at Greenbluff. I have lots of canning to get done the next couple of weeks. Preparing to feed my family good wholesome food through the long winter we have here in the Inland Northwest. I remember doing this with my mom when I was growing up. Never fully appreciating it until now. I wish my mom was home to help me now, but she’s probably on the east coast somewhere. Serving up drinks to unruly passengers and helping get everyone to their final destinations safely. Next year…