I laid in bed this morning wrapped up in blankets. I could feel the cold air on my face. I stared up at the black ceiling deciding if I should get up. I turned to look at the curtains and noticed that the sun hadn't started to come up yet.
I rolled over and watched the glow of the sun start to come over the tops of the curtains. I watched as the length of the light grew longer like a lighthouse shining over the ocean. As it stretch slowly across the ceiling, I decided it was time to get up.
I stood up and noticed how dark the room still was. I looked at the window. It was framed with the glow of the rising sun.
Quietly, I tried to feel my way around the room trying to find a pair of running pants and jacket. As I slipped into my running pants, I realized that it's mornings like this that remind me of why I enjoy mornings.
I haven't always been a morning person. In fact, I don't know if I can say that I am now. It's just the nature of the beast. For the past 15 years, I've risen before the sun and before anyone else in the house to run, swim, bike, hike, snowshoe....even walk the dogs.
Over those 15 years, I remember the winter mornings best. There is something about running in the cold. No one else is out. I can see my breath as I run. I can feel icicles forming on my eyelashes. Maybe it's the feeling of being cleansed. The air feels clean and cold.
After the run, I sit in "my space"(the library) with a cup of coffee, staring out the window enjoying the silence before the rest of the house wakes up.
Today won't be an icy cold run, but it will still be an early run by myself while the coffee brews at home waiting for my return.
Everything Good?
Friday, October 31, 2008
Toilet Paper
I have boys.
Teenage.boys.
Once a week, they bring their dirty clothes to the laundry room to be washed. Sometimes they wash them. Sometimes I wash them. We all share this responsibility.
That's ok. Except that I have boys.
Teenage.boys.
I haven't quite figured out this phenomenon. However, when the basket of dirty clothes arrives in the laundry room, and I find myself sorting the dirty clothes, among the dirty clothes, I find strands of used toilet paper.
Did I mention that I have boys?
Teenage.boys.
I don't know exactly what the toilet paper was used for. I don't know why the toilet papers ends up mixed in with dirty clothes.
I do know that as a parent, I have handled, cleaned up, and disposed of some of the nastiest things ejected from the human body....without wincing, without gagging.
But handling used toilet paper that could have been used for anything from the sniffles to teen spirit is.....just plain gross.
Everything Good?
Teenage.boys.
Once a week, they bring their dirty clothes to the laundry room to be washed. Sometimes they wash them. Sometimes I wash them. We all share this responsibility.
That's ok. Except that I have boys.
Teenage.boys.
I haven't quite figured out this phenomenon. However, when the basket of dirty clothes arrives in the laundry room, and I find myself sorting the dirty clothes, among the dirty clothes, I find strands of used toilet paper.
Did I mention that I have boys?
Teenage.boys.
I don't know exactly what the toilet paper was used for. I don't know why the toilet papers ends up mixed in with dirty clothes.
I do know that as a parent, I have handled, cleaned up, and disposed of some of the nastiest things ejected from the human body....without wincing, without gagging.
But handling used toilet paper that could have been used for anything from the sniffles to teen spirit is.....just plain gross.
Everything Good?
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Everything Good
I had a blog.
One that had been around for several years. It's odd, but I found that my blog didn't change with me. (Please note that I didn't say evolved). Soon I felt like the blog had forced me into a certain category, or label, or something....as though it had a life of its own.
which if you think about it would make for a good book.
Here's the new blog. It's pretty isn't it? I did the banner all by myself. Although, I was a bit rushed, and the sizing isn't quite right.
But, it's all mine.
Everything Good.
Mr. Nuk is the reason for the title. Everything Good does not mean that everything IS actually good all of the time.
It's a question and should be read as "Everything Good?"
Everything Good is the question that Mr. Nuk asks me regularly.
It means "whatever is going on....good or bad...are you ok? Are we ok? Give me the sign." Of course, the appropriate response is "Everything good". The answer is always everything good because if we can control nothing else, we can control our attitude. We can choose to take control or we can choose to be a victim of whatever life throws our way.
--Everything Good?
One that had been around for several years. It's odd, but I found that my blog didn't change with me. (Please note that I didn't say evolved). Soon I felt like the blog had forced me into a certain category, or label, or something....as though it had a life of its own.
which if you think about it would make for a good book.
Here's the new blog. It's pretty isn't it? I did the banner all by myself. Although, I was a bit rushed, and the sizing isn't quite right.
But, it's all mine.
Everything Good.
Mr. Nuk is the reason for the title. Everything Good does not mean that everything IS actually good all of the time.
It's a question and should be read as "Everything Good?"
Everything Good is the question that Mr. Nuk asks me regularly.
It means "whatever is going on....good or bad...are you ok? Are we ok? Give me the sign." Of course, the appropriate response is "Everything good". The answer is always everything good because if we can control nothing else, we can control our attitude. We can choose to take control or we can choose to be a victim of whatever life throws our way.
--Everything Good?
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