I dig the morning. It’s quiet. Aside from the click of dog nails on the laminate flooring when Saydee and Santana are running about, excited to eat and head outside. I do my best work in the morning. I believe that I am at my most creative during this time of day. My mind is clear from the clutter accumulated throughout the day. It is rested and fresh, open to all the possibilities the day promises.
My mornings are near ritualistic in their nature. The most important is the brewing of my morning coffee. Of course, I am up before the timer turns the machine on, when I manually turn it on, it is invariably flashing blue (a very pretty electric blue) and telling me to add water, I grumble and curse my loving muse for leaving it thusly. The dogs are outside but even they are patient when it comes to “dad’s” morning coffee ritual. They stand at the door…whining a bit as I pick out the brew of the morning. Shall I go with French Roast or Mocha Java? How about French Roast to start and Java later?
Yes, coffee, always tastes like more.
The dogs fed and in and out several times, the coffee brews and I sit down to catch up on reading all your blogs. I try to read, and perhaps like or comment on as many as I can fir into my self imposed time frame. Each morning being different, depending on what I have happening about me. The one constant is my: