Mornings are like waking up in a fairyland for me on days there are no schedules. Typically my mornings are very scheduled, though I am beginning to see that if I am the scheduler, then perhaps a more enjoyable one could be enjoyed….or allowed as my mind so often goes to. (there are rules aren’t there for how life is to be lived?)
I am naturally high energy…I wake up on full tilt with a smile on my face and while I adore that side of my dna, it can lead to others in my household preferring to stock up on ear plugs and/or masks to sleep in. Most days I slide out of our bedroom and go to my quiet places, the office and our deck. The show begins the moment I step out of my room, three little fluffs come along side me as if they are in on the secret get out…each of them taking on their own roles….Tator is about alerting us to others present…Mr Bingley is about following behind and looking behind me…and Bella leads the brigade always suggesting breakfast first would be best.
There is something about morning time in the garden. I think of my friends across the lake and wonder if six hours later, they are in their garden. My garden is not a well tended space, but it is alive with beauty and rawness and sometimes pickable things that simply encourage my heart. I’d like to say I’m productive in my time outside, but typically it is one of the few times I simply exist. I may, like the small child, take in the wonder of a butterfly or dragon fly’s flight. I often watch the birds and wonder what they are singing about. Last fall I finally got it that laptop meant “portable” as in could work outside… (yet another thing I knew but didn’t apply that rule to my life…) and sometimes now that is exactly where I go to write…on the deck where I can look up and drink in the delight of a world outside my window.
This morning I arose early for a Sunday, I typically work at 4:30-7:30 most mornings writing, but Sundays I sleep in until 6:30, but today was an early day again. Breakfast on Sundays is typically my husband’s thing, but today he slept in and I presented breakfast…and that is something I always feel good about. My family spells love C O O K I N G and so I have. Each day I love bringing us together at the table. We tried a year off one time, for simply busy schedules made it hard, but each of us came back to saying “let’s do this.” I love the stories my now young adults bring, and though I cringe a bit when they share soooo much (I am beginning to understand my mother’s “some things I do not want to know” statements) I am thankful they come to our table and bring their friends.
Like my full bag of coffee in the morning, it is a blessed thing to have enough, and I think this morning of those who do not….and though there are many who do not have enough food…my thoughts are more of those who do not have enough family in their lives. Enough feeling loved. Enough feeling the thankfulness of God’s creation all around. Enough of knowing that the Bible is somewhere they can go to find a feeding that soothes more than a hungry stomach.
Mornings are my favorite time of day….that is until it’s another time in my day….life is about living and personally I’m going to pick every moment as my favorite.
Sweetie
