Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but I love, love, love the mornings when I don't run.
This week, I've skipped running three days in an attempt to avoid some pending injuries.
When I run, I have to go early, before 7 a.m., or I just won't go. I'm that kind of person. Exercise in the morning or the rest of the day is history. And, of course, if I don't run early, I can't stop sweating in time to get in the shower and get ready for work.
Even when I don't run, I wake up early. This morning I got up about 6:15. I made myself a cappuccino, started the full dishwasher, and settled on the front porch with a book.
The air is finally cool enough so that it feels good to go outside. I wave to neighbors as they walk their dogs. I sip my cappuccino in the big Paris cup that Spencer bought for me on the top of the Eiffel Tower.
As I sit enjoying the quiet of the morning, a hummingbird hovers near the hanging plant with its simple yellow flowers. I don't reach for my camera. I simply watch the compact little body with the wise eyes for a minute before he zooms away.
The whole day stretches before me. I have to go to work and I'll return home for a few hours before Earl must leave for work.
I'll catch up with the kids who are mostly all sleeping when I leave in the morning.
They came in to kiss me goodnight the night before and in my sleepy state, I must remember to ask them about curious comments they made.
Spencer with his promotion at work making salads instead of bussing tables. Grace who went to Ezra's party with her friend Bethany. Tucker who came home from a surprise 16th birthday party for his friend Josh and said it was fun until the food on the table caught on fire. All of those things I'll have to catch up on.
But the quiet of the morning surrounds me now.
I pick up my empty coffee cup, grab the morning paper and discard them on the table inside the house.
Then I crawl back into bed with my sleeping husband, because I can.
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