Let’s see…

It’s been a while since I’ve done this writing thing.  Not that I haven’t had ideas or even motivation.  There’s plenty of worthy stuff and crap to comment on, but sometimes life’s river takes one for a ride before an exit from the current can be found in order to put things (materials and concepts) into order, so to speak.

(“Just breathe,” I remind myself.)

And so it goes.

Three weeks ago a nephew was found lying on the ground next to his vehicle, dead from a gun shot wound . There are suspicious circumstances surrounding his death that may never be completely investigated or understood.  (Sad, difficult days.)

Computer problems. (I spend way too much time troubleshooting issues that pop up for reasons that take way to long to research and resolve.  But I am actually pretty decent now, for a computer novice, eventually resolving most problems.)

Taking dad to medical appointments including getting his quarterly bladder cancer examination.  (No reappearance of cancer for the second check-up in a row.  Good news.)

Still, I feel good generally about things; my life, my cats.

And there’s something I never used to do–never thought I could, actually–that I really enjoy doing now.

I get up before dawn–usually between 5:00-5:30 am– with Baldo and Chica.  I feed them and let them go outside with me when I fetch the newspaper.

Back inside I go upstairs to the kitchen, passing my sleeping father (who sleeps in the downstairs entertainment room) on the way.  I make coffee for both of us, but most of it’s for me these days. (The extra jolt of that 20+ oz of caffeination is a lovely thing these days!)

I make my morning pee offering to the Pee Gods, wash my hands and make Belgian waffles or an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich for me and dad.  (I make sure he eats at least a couple of decent meals a day so he doesn’t just eat cookies and root beer when he has to fend for himself.)

I peruse the newspaper, listen to the morning radio talkers, watch a bit of the tele, and eat my breakfast.

Baldo and Chica will stop by looking for a handout, jumping on the table (Chica has no manners), rubbing against my leg or flopping onto his side to get my attention (Baldo is a bit of a drama queen).

In the midst of all the suffering and turmoil that I have experienced and seen personally including what we’ve all seen globally–my father asserts almost daily that the death and destruction in the world have never been worse despite my efforts to challenge his opinion–I feel pretty damn fortunate to have my mornings where the stream allows me a brief escape to dry ground to arrange myself before getting back into the flow.