Lisa has gone to work , extra early today; such a good woman. The sun at this time of day only serves to produce a rumor of warmth which will prove false when I go out to plug in my tractor. It is morning on my day off.
I am working nights and so I truly get only one day off. Wednesday started with the end of my shift and Friday will end with the beginning off my shift so Thursday is mine. I am truly dug into the couch as I watch a public broadcasting special on Bill Holm. Lisa requires only one blanket to watch television but I require three; an afghan we receive for our wedding, the blue blanket Lisa gave me when we were dating and a green blanket which I pull down from the arm of the couch. When I am alone, I also cover all three with Lisa’s nice quilted blanket. We are out of Rye grain now and so the corn stoves sit quietly. It is a good reminder to me that the hard work I do to keep the stoves at work is well rewarded with a warm house. This morning I have the thermostat set high but it still feels cold without the stoves’ deep sustaining heat from an actual fire.
I rarely sit on the couch alone. Magoo (one of tthree cats) is my baby and sits under my arm and snuggles. I have permanent elbow pain from holding him in the crook of my arm. Twitch usually sits towards the end of the couch on my feet and Laine chooses whatever spot allows her to gaze fondly upon Twitch. We are a happy group. If I’ve planned well, the phone, the remote and my coffee are close enough so that I do not disturb one prop in this serene painting. This morning I choose an English muffin to eat so that is there too. As I grow older, I have less and less use for gravy or jelly but more need for butter. My muffin has a pat plus some pressed sorghum which tastes like honey. It both looks and tastes dark which makes me feel like it is a healthy topping although this is probably false.
My morning ends with the reality of life. The end of my twilight coma begins with a “People” magazine. I believe that we could improve our culture greatly by simply buying each edition of “People” magazine and throwing it away along with its tales of actors, reality stars and other celebrities. I still read it. The magazine reminds me of the big, shallow world out there and that I must do the basic and practical things that average people do to strike a balance in the world with the “People” people.
I must dress and work. I haven’t actually made the commitment but know I must soon. There is time, however, once more; under the four blankets, beside Magoo, above Twitch and Laine and reach for the coffee and remote.