Another Glorious Morning

I admit it, I am one of those people. The ones that wake up early even on weekends – on purpose. I am ready to tackle the day after my first cup of coffee. I revel in the serenity the birth of a new day brings. I watch sunrises with a thankful heart for new chances and a clean slate. I can’t wait to wake up and know that yesterday is gone with all it’s sorrows, trouble and frustrations. Maybe if you saw a few of these every other morning you could become a morning person too. Maybe not. But this is (besides my family of course) what keeps me going, a clean slate written all over the sky and embodied in the jeweled grasses early everyday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My minivan isn’t as friendly as my Jeep was

Every week I stop and fill up my gas tank at a locally run gas station/mechanic garage/tire place. I go there because it is a full service station and I don’t like dragging the kids in and out of the car anymore than necessary. When I’m in a hurry on a morning that I have to go to the office, wrestling with the five point harness while making sure the other child is staying put then having to carry the one that has no self-control, struggling with holding the hand of a four-year-old boy who has “out-grown” holding mom’s hand while weaving through a busy gas station parking lot is not on my list of favorite things to do. Oh, and how could I forget the part about dodging the curious glances (of course I put that nicely) of various construction workers off to their jobs. Okay they aren’t always construction workers. There is also that creepy guy that used to come in to the little diner I worked at and would flirt with me <<shudder>> who always seems to be lurking around the gas station in the morning. Yeah, you get the picture.

Anyway, I have been going to this full service station since I had my first son. I love that they wash my windows, fill my gas tank and chat with you about whatever the subject of the day may be. By the way, it is always a good idea to find something other than the weather to chat about they hear about it over 50 times on any given day. When I had my Jeep, I’d pull up and roll down the windows to talk. My oldest son loved the attention he’d get from the service man. They’d talk about trucks, camping and other boy stuff. Since we got the minivan, however, he has not been able to talk to Mike or Donnie. This upsets my son almost to tears! We pull up to the gas pump and he begs me to open his window. I’ve tried to tell him that they don’t roll down and he gets frustrated and is left to tap on the window to get attention from his friends. “Mom I only want to be friendly.” Poor guy. I guess we’ll have to take the truck next time we pass that way so he can let his friends at the filling station know that he isn’t trying to be rude, mom’s minivan simply isn’t as friendly as the Jeep was.

Good Morning!

I wrote the following poem after seeing a beautiful picture on a tissue box, of all places. I was a little depressed going from a house and 20 acres to an apartment and to add to my feeling of isolation, it was winter. I had a longing to have our own place again. There is a sense of freedom that becomes embedded in your soul when you own the ground you live on and I was missing that freedom. After we finally moved into our new place I cried when I was able to watch the sunrise again, a luxury I took for granted at our old house.

The picture is an old one taken a couple years ago on my way to work. It was fitting for the poem.

I long for a golden morning
When the sunlight reaches out
Across the hills and hollows
To touch our sleepy house

The dew kissed scarlet roses,
The Maple’s emerald hue
And flowers lift their heads
To greet the day anew.

I long for a golden morning
When winter’s icy grasp
Has long since gone away
And grows the lovely grass.

I long to wake beside you
Light streaming through the pane.
The sound of children’s laughter,
Stirring from their sleep, ready to play.

I long for a golden morning
When at last I shall say,
Here’s my golden morning
to start the perfect day.