I woke up at 5:30am this morning, not that unusual but this time it was the Difficult Leg that drove me out of bed, not the Need of the Bathroom, although that was present, too. So I decided to continue with the morning’s needs and habits.

It takes a long time to get up. I have been striving to treat it as meditation and ritual, rather than, damn I have to do a lot of things before I can get myself downstairs. A lot was happening, too. The rain was quite loud, and I do love the sound of it. When the rain let up, a solitary bird was singing for a long time. It was a series of cheery notes that said good morning and it is this day and it is my job to sing. It was a friendly accompaniment as I sat, wrapped in a sweatshirt over my nightgown, trying to warm up enough to get in the shower.

On mornings that I desire oatmeal, I put it all up before tea so it will be done when I am ready. This morning there was cream and maple sugar, and it was very fine. I made my usual matcha latte while the oatmeal was cooking. My chawan looked so pretty, bright green matcha swirled through the milk foam. There would be a photograph here had I remembered to bring my iPhone downstairs.

So, it is Monday, and now nearly 10am, and there will be playoff baseball tonight, various householderies to take care of before that, and perhaps a pleasurable dive into my Outlander collection (books, tv, music, social media). I will start Hillary Clinton’s new book today, also.

Good morning.