Morning Rituals

The morning sun screams brightly on my little white house, heating the air, which begins to stir. Each day has its demands; get up, get up.

No, no, I don’t want to; it feels good to be here in my bed. A quick inventory tells me no headache, hips aren’t sore, no backache. Moderately aging bones complain often and loudly, so what could motivate me to alter this perfect peace?

That lovely morning sun shining on my bed and the need to go to the bano demanded I do something; where’s a Depends when you need one?

Once up, coffee must be made, so I shuffle down the hall thinking how lovely I am in the morning; someone should be here to see this.

Crap!! I didn’t fill the water reservoir in the coffee maker last night. Doing that in the morning messes with the flow of the day. I just want to head back to bed while the coffee brews. Oh, God, why am I up? Needless to say I didn’t put the beans in the coffee grind either. I refuse to judge the day this early. Yeah, it’s going to be a winner.

On the way back to bed I catch my profile in the bathroom mirror. Hell, I promised myself I’d do something about that, so I grab the broom handle leaned against the wall for just this occasion. Eighty bendovers with the broom across my shoulders and sixty twists later I smell coffee. The aroma pulls me to the pot, I shuffle fast.

Rich is the morning air with expresso blend. Thank you, God, for this day. A sip before toddling back to bed; oh, that’s so good. On  the way, I wonder: why waste time, and head back to the kitchen to make toast. With coffee refilled by the time the cream cheese and avocado is on the toast, I’m ready to wake; let the morning begin!