Saturday Morning

I awake to the my shrill, cheap alarm clock. I purchased the alarm clock in 1987 as part of a package that came with a plug in phone; both pieces are pink but came from a time when I was more interested in cheap than in manly, I guess. On my week-end off, I will sometimes awake to the alarm clock then fall back asleep, I do this because there is nothing sweeter than the few quick minutes of sleep you get after the alarm rings and in this case I can have as much of this deep slumber as I want. Walking down from the bedroom is a negotiated maneuver that involves appeasing each of our three cats with some quick affection just long enough for me to get to the top of the steps and head downstairs.

I arrive downstairs and begin with coffee; we only use the big coffee maker on the week-ends and only when we are both home so I plug it in and begin the process. I always remove the paper liner from the coffee maker when I am finished but my wife can be as irresponsible as a daffodil and so usually leaves the filter from the previous week-end in the hopper. A filter left in the coffee maker for this long takes a bit of time and patience to extract and is the consistency of clothing worn continually during a week-long camping trip. Our big coffee pot always drips when you fill water and I no longer care; I used to try and be careful but I am now reckless and just dump the water-it spills no more than when I am cautious.

I am a great believer in the powers of yogurt and as such have a medicinal dosage of either “creamy strawberry” or “creamy vanilla” each morning. I don’t know why the word “creamy” has to be included with anything involving yogurt as it seems somewhat redundant; it is correct however and descriptive. Later in the morning I will enjoy peanut butter toast with black coffee which is probably my favorite breakfast food. When I had surgery for carpal tunnel syndrome (who says I don’t suffer for my craft) I received coffee and peanut butter toast from our close friend, Nancy Thompson, who’s nursing attire ought to include a red cape-she is just that good. As I am blessed with two hands, I was able to enjoy two such recoveries and the toast and black coffee made me wish for a third appendage.

About ten minutes into my morning, it’s time to release the cats into the wild for their five minutes of time spent not sleeping then bring them back inside and escort them to the couch. The toast is up and I’ve laid a knife out for peanut butter; I hear Lisa’s steps from the staircase and our home will soon be filled with her voice. The coffee is ready and I can no longer sit at the computer, thank-you for enjoying the pre-dawn light with me but now enjoy your Saturday-and do try some peanut butter toast and black coffee, won’t you?
 

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