morning
I woke this morning to cold floorboards, an ice encased car and the last day of November.
My husband and daughter are at the kitchen counter; she is doing a crossword puzzle while he puts the finishing touches on the lunches he has packed. My son is still sleeping, warm in the tangled blankets for a few minutes longer.
My morning routine begins in this little white house on Jefferson Street. Coffee is poured, syrup is spilled, kisses are given, backpacks are zipped and I chant my mantra “Will you be warm enough?” the required nine times.
The contrast between the hurry and scurry of the early morning hours and the quiet solitude that follows are highlighted today by a slow, steady drop in temperature and the sunlight’s feeble attempts to puncture through the clouds.
Each homebound person I greet this morning, with a hot meal and a cheerful smile, reiterates the forecast and sends me off with variations of “stay warm” and “winter’s here”.
The last morning of November; brisk and alive, a good morning to reflect, dream, express gratitude, hug your children, or start a blog.
[…] Please welcome my wife to the blogging masses: The last morning of November; brisk and alive, a good morning to reflect, dream, express gratitude, hug your children, or start a blog. […]
In the meantime it is like 75 degrees today in Washington, DC. I walked down the street and heard Christmas carols coming out of stores, wreathes were on the trees, but it was too warm to wear a jacket over my short-sleeved shirt. Very strange weather. The first day of December and the last day of summer? It’s like some kind of dreamland.