I love my kitchen in the morning at this time of year. It’s dark when I pad from our bedroom to the kitchen to make the first cup of coffee. The only light comes from the AeroGarden that comes on automatically at around 4:30 am. It’s warmer in here than in the bedroom where the
Somehow it’s the middle of November. Fog blankets my piece of the world and it’s beautiful and silent. I sit at the window and watch it do nothing but hover and think it is the wisest of all the things that jostle for my attention. Soon it will be winter but for now we live
We wake to the first snow of the season and reports of tangled traffic. It happens to be a morning when we have an early appointment in town. No matter. We’re Canadian, we expect this. I’m quietly giddy at the snow, the dark, and the start of hygee season. Let nesting commence with blankets, reading
My Christmas cactus is in bloom. Pretty and pink on my kitchen windowsill, it is a spark of joy in the dark and early morning as I wait for the Keurig to do its very important work. I saw something that explained, based on the shape, the difference between Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter cactuses. Maybe
It is shortly after 6:30am as I write this. The view outside the window is of the city, not the the ridge and the often-glorious sunrise I usually greet the day with. Instead I see the lights of a city waking up and two cranes in the construction area next to the hospital. I’ve been
I smile when I read the prompt for this week’s Five Minute Friday—active—because I’ve been anything but this month. October, so far, has been going to appointments, spending bad days on the couch with my heating pad and a Yorkie, tapping out words, reading good books, thinking deep thoughts, and good days in the kitchen
It’s been an unexpected whirlwind week. Yesterday afternoon, I sat in my wing chair, reading and highlighting, while beet pickles processed in the canner. Content, I looked over at my open kitchen with its tidy counters and big blue Ball canner boiling on the stove. We picked the last of the beets the day prior