A Morning Tale
When it came time to rise this morning, I pulled a pillow over my head and snuggled back down under the covers. And actually, I was already out of bed when it came time to rise, so the decision required me to get back into bed. And it did it. Unapologetically. It was nice and warm. As I lay there, I even thought for a brief minute that maybe I should have a whiskey drink to start my day. I mean, whiskey does make me feel good. So, why not?
In the end I simply decided to get up, pull on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, a light fleece jacket, and brew myself a cup of coffee. It seemed the adult thing to do. And now here I am typing away, and admitting to my failure. Although, crawling back into bed may simply be a relatively human thing to do, part of our need for a warm embrace, and a reminder of life in the safety of the womb. And oh my God, that sounds a little too weighty.
And now I’m going to wrap this up by saying a great thunderstorm blew through yesterday evening, just after dark. It dumped more than an inch of rain and reminded me that my gutters needed cleaning. And there was a little hail, too, and when it hit the tin roof at just the right angle it made a high-pitched sound like a flat rock being skipped across an icy lake, phewwww. And this morning the air is cool and clear, with all the particulates washed away. And I think it might be a nice day, and they say we may get more rain.