|The old sun porch|
It's during this early time of the morning that I will do some further refining of my plans for the day. I'll work out a plan, a schedule, and then, after a second cup of Maxwell House, I'll start to move in earnest. Sometimes those plans are nothing more than walk with Mary around Westville, coffee, and a scone at the Publik House, and then bumble about annoying Mary, and her plans. I like those days, but more often than not we are on the same wave length, and thinking on doing the same project, except when I am planning on building something innovative like the chipmunk death ray in the basement.
Sometimes, Mary is up way before me. I'll find her reading from her Kindle in the sun room. Like me, she enjoys the early mornings, and the sun porch is the perfect place to watch it evolve.
Today, as I got up, Mary asked, as I sat on the edge of the bed trying to remember my name, what I had planned for the day. I said something unintelligible, smiled, and stumbled off. I had yet to muse about it in the sun room, and so I had nothing to give her yet.
After a bit of musing, or as some have observed it: staring off into space, I came up stairs, sat behind the desk and began typing. The result is the above bit of early weekend morning rambling, however, during this time I was also able to make a plan for the day.
Funny how sometimes I can multitask vast projects, and schedules, and other times I put my shoes on before my socks.
Well, as John Wayne once said, "We're burnin' daylight", and I have a day to get a head start on.
Well, maybe after just one more cup of coffee, and a bit more musing. Then, of course, there's the shower.
Weekend mornings are like this. They just don't have the discipline.