I like morning. Monday’s especially. But I like them best when they are cool. We’re getting that now, cool mornings with the sun bringing more warmth and shine later in the day. It reminds me of being a kid, in my Villa Cabrini uniform. When we used to line up in the quad, hear announcements, Mrs. Quigley would walk by, her perfume trailing her like a posse of paparazzi! Then, the John Philip Souza marching music. Me in navy blue, with crisp white cuffs and a white collar, a navy blue sweater and Buster Brown shoes, bookbag over cross my chest, full of my god-awful handwriting.
I love the promise of morning. It’s all brand new, every day, all year around, it is always brand new in the morning. A new start. A better chance to succeed. What more could you ask for? Well, probably a lot more, but I’ll take morning, anytime, anywhere, always have.
Retirement, Tom’s retirement, has changed all that. Morning is a lot later than it used to be. We don’t set an alarm. And, the dogs. Pffff! Forget it. The dogs will sleep through just about anything. So here it is, late morning when I’m setting up this blog and I should be doing lots of other stuff, but no, I’m writing.
Okay, off to do other stuff.