Mornings

I’m generally awake around 3 AM.  Sometimes I make it until 4, but not often.  If I wake up earlier than 3 AM, I force myself to lie in bed, hoping I can go back to sleep.  Here’s the problem:  I love mornings, for a variety of reasons... first of all, at my age I’m just glad to see another day, I’m so grateful to get one more chance at life.  Then of course, there’s coffee.  The thought of coffee makes me want to get up and make the thought a reality.  Oh yes, and there’s the peace, solitude, and quiet of the mornings.  It’s the best time to catch up on Words with Friends and read whatever book I’m in the middle of.  As long as I can remember, morning has been the best part of my day.  Anything could happen in those hours that seem to stretch endlessly before me like a plush carpet.

Gabe joins me in my early morning solitude.  I usually start my coffee first thing out of bed, then put on my coat, let Gabe out of his kennel, hook his leash onto his collar, and take him outside to check his pee-mail and make a deposit.  It doesn’t take him long; then he and I sit side-by-side in my ratty old recliner, covered with a blanket, until 4:30, when he eats.  I say, “Are you hungry?” And he is instantly awake and struggling to escape the blanket and get to the floor.  It only takes him five minutes, tops, to eat.  Then he’s right back beside me, covered head to toe.  Of course, I get up several times during those three or four hours until Cliff gets up:  There are visits to the bathroom and trips to the kitchen for coffee; I always tell Gabe where I’m going and what I’m doing, although he rarely even raises his head to let me know he hears.

I wish you could see me getting out of the recliner:  You see, Gabe likes to extend his head and upper body to the footrest of the chair, so if I let down the footrest, he’d fall on the floor head-first.  It wouldn’t hurt him a bit, but because I get up so often, I hate to bother him.  (Yes, I’ve become that dog-person.).  So I sort of dangle my right leg off the side of the footrest to the floor, scoot my butt up as far as I can, and contort my arthritic body sideways, holding firmly to the armrests, until I’m standing.  Gabe sleeps through all this, which makes me happy I didn’t disturb him.  Here he is, waiting for me to somehow get back in the recliner without disturbing him:

It’’s a dog’s life, right?

And now you know how I start my day.  

Love,

Donna

Christmas is over

There’s something sort of “blah” about the days between Christmas and the New Year’s that seems to set the tone for the rest of the winter.  We are always a few pounds heavier and somewhat sluggish from eating so many sweets and starches, so we don’t feel very good about ourselves.  

We enjoyed our little trip to Kansas.  I changed my mind about which audio book to play as we traveled, settling on “Rooster Bar” by John Grisham.  After listening to it awhile I realized I’d read it before.  I don’t remember much about it, though, so it was entertaining enough to make the time pass.  This is more for Cliff than me, anyhow.  He hates driving long distances, especially since he’s gotten older, so anything that helps make the driving time go faster for him is great.  

I had been watching the weather forecast for both McPherson and Kansas City for a couple of weeks, because one year we went there for Christmas and more or less made our way home on solid ice, watching cars slide into the ditches as we went.  However, the temperatures this time turned out to be considerably above freezing for the trip home, although we did drive through rain for most of the way home.  We had a problem this time, though, when we first headed home, about fifteen miles out of McPherson:  The check-engine light came on, and the engine started missing.  Cliff turned back toward McPherson and had me call my nephew and ask him for names of some auto repair places.  

I wrote down the phone number and address of one, and we found it.  Unfortunately, they were too busy to take us, but the guy told us to go to O’Reilly’s and they’d check it for us.  Cliff was pretty upset by this time, concerned that our old 2003 Mercury with over 200,000 miles on it might cause us a lot of expense.  You know the things that go through a person’s head when a car starts messing up... you wonder if you will be sidelined for hours or days.  Of course in the event we had to stay overnight, we could go back to Maxine’s, but they were leaving the next day to have Christmas with the grandkids.  Last-minute guests could have really messed up everybody’s plans.  

There were no other customers at O’Reilly’s, so a young fellow checked out the problem and told us the number seven misfired on startup and later, also.  The Number 7 coil pack was shot.  He then told us to go about three blocks down the street and we’d find an auto repair place that could help us.  He assured us they were nice folks and would do us right.  

When we walked in the door at Superior Automotive, they were pretty busy.  Cliff said he’s pretty sure they were going to turn us away, but the lady told us to wait a minute and she’d go talk to her husband.  He took the car in and had it fixed promptly.  I don’t think we were there over half-an-hour, total.  With tax, the total was $97.90 for labor and parts.  Not bad at all!  

We were only two hours later getting home than we’d originally planned.  We picked Gabe up in Independence at the granddaughter’s and came on home.  Amber assured us, once again, that Gabe can stay with her and her dog any time.

We had a great time Sunday with our finger foods, desserts, and noodles.  Eight-month-old Amara had her share, and the noodles, a double batch of them, where gone by days end.  The two-night stay with my sister was the frosting on the cake.  It’s been a good holiday season.

I’ve started reading a non-fiction book, “Killers of the Flower Moon:  The Osage murders and the birth of the FBI”.  Cliff is reading “The Memory Man”.  

Sincerely yours,

Donna

P.S.

As I was finishing the blog entry, a long-time friend came by.  My kids might recognize him, since he used to be their hero when they were preschool age.  He’s changed just a bit since he was 16.

About fifty years ago he made me a checkbook cover with my initials on it, and I’ve used it all these years.  He stopped by a while back and I showed him how it was falling apart, so he took it home to fix.  Today he brought it back:

Makes my day!