I set my alarm for a half an hour earlier because my goal is to ultimately spring out of bed at 5 am, ready to face the world, meditate, write, and maybe just be. But alas, so far it has been a challenge. Thanks to my oldest daughter who wrestled, convinced and connived my youngest that she should sleep in her own bed, I was able to get a full nights sleep. More than likely, Ryan used good parenting/babysitting skills and warned Austen with a time-out, something my husband and I are often too tired to do at the end of the day. However, she went to bed in her own bed for the entire night and I am grateful to Ryan for taking that task on. It is just past 5:30 and I ready for the day.
I opened the door to let the dog out for his morning constitutions and was taken back by the smell in the air. The dampness was there, but it was mixed with pine. It was crisp, and fresh. I was reminded of those early morning trips we'd take when I was a child with my family to their cabin in New Hampshire. No matter how early we'd get up, my mother was always up earlier making everyone their favorite sandwich for the trip. She'd pack it, one bag of chips, one large bottle of soda -- a great treat in those days -- and plastic cups. We probably only got up at 6 am, but with the darkness of the sky and the stillness of the morning, it surely felt like the middle of the night.
Still to this day I don't know why after I was woken by my father, who used the flashing the light in the hallway upstairs as his wake up call, I felt I still had to come down the steps and peer around the corner to see that my mother truly was there. Doing what she always did, doing what she did for years, and would do for years to come. Then my two sisters and I could truly begin our day of packing what little we needed for a short weekend in a cabin. We never really changed our jeans -- who needed to? So, we'd pack underwear and socks, a few change of shirts, a heavy sweatshirt, and our boots. We were building forts and having adventures. Sometimes we'd pile in the car and go out on "an adventure" my mother called it. Usually that meant antiquing of some sort, but almost always ended up with ice cream. It helped to have a father with a sweet tooth.
The cabin was six hours away and we'd leave early to miss the New York City traffic. Before long we were half way there, and unpacking our lunch at a rest stop by some beautiful mountain side. Lunch was always especially good, no matter what she made. You could still feel the crispness in the air, as we were heading North and it was going to be crisp most of the days, and much cooler into the evening and night. I remember laughing with my sisters, fighting over chips, and then my father producing for each of us, one "trashy" teen magazine, and for each one of us, our favorite candy -- an entire bag each! In the days of no mandatory seat belts, we'd all three lie on the back of the Surburban floor and lay on our sleeping bags with our pillows, satiated from lunch, but still will to stuff a sweet, chewy bit into our mouths as we caught up on Leif Garrett, Shaun Cassidy, or whatever version of Kim Kardashian there was. Truly, it was heaven on wheels.
This morning when I opened that door, I expected nothing but the quick swift swish of my old Newfoundlands tail as he hurried by me. Instead, I was drawn out onto the patio and immediately I had the urge to get dressed. I wanted to run to my kitchen to see my mother there packing my sandwich. I knew she wouldn't be there. I knew my own daughters would be hard pressed to get up at this hour to appreciate the freshness in the smell. The adventure of the soon to be wet pine. Today we'll spend our day with laundry and some historical movies catching up on homeschooling, but I will go out and take some time to remember those special car trips. The candy that I still love, the magazines I still find myself drawn to even though I don't know the actors or actresses.
I am so thankful that it was my husband who said, "Why is your alarm going off at 5?" and I woke up enough to roll out of bed and turn it off. I have been given this moment of remembrance and thankfulness to start my day. I am thankful for this day, today and everyday that I have forward. May you all have the crisp brightness in your day!
I opened the door to let the dog out for his morning constitutions and was taken back by the smell in the air. The dampness was there, but it was mixed with pine. It was crisp, and fresh. I was reminded of those early morning trips we'd take when I was a child with my family to their cabin in New Hampshire. No matter how early we'd get up, my mother was always up earlier making everyone their favorite sandwich for the trip. She'd pack it, one bag of chips, one large bottle of soda -- a great treat in those days -- and plastic cups. We probably only got up at 6 am, but with the darkness of the sky and the stillness of the morning, it surely felt like the middle of the night.
Still to this day I don't know why after I was woken by my father, who used the flashing the light in the hallway upstairs as his wake up call, I felt I still had to come down the steps and peer around the corner to see that my mother truly was there. Doing what she always did, doing what she did for years, and would do for years to come. Then my two sisters and I could truly begin our day of packing what little we needed for a short weekend in a cabin. We never really changed our jeans -- who needed to? So, we'd pack underwear and socks, a few change of shirts, a heavy sweatshirt, and our boots. We were building forts and having adventures. Sometimes we'd pile in the car and go out on "an adventure" my mother called it. Usually that meant antiquing of some sort, but almost always ended up with ice cream. It helped to have a father with a sweet tooth.
The cabin was six hours away and we'd leave early to miss the New York City traffic. Before long we were half way there, and unpacking our lunch at a rest stop by some beautiful mountain side. Lunch was always especially good, no matter what she made. You could still feel the crispness in the air, as we were heading North and it was going to be crisp most of the days, and much cooler into the evening and night. I remember laughing with my sisters, fighting over chips, and then my father producing for each of us, one "trashy" teen magazine, and for each one of us, our favorite candy -- an entire bag each! In the days of no mandatory seat belts, we'd all three lie on the back of the Surburban floor and lay on our sleeping bags with our pillows, satiated from lunch, but still will to stuff a sweet, chewy bit into our mouths as we caught up on Leif Garrett, Shaun Cassidy, or whatever version of Kim Kardashian there was. Truly, it was heaven on wheels.
This morning when I opened that door, I expected nothing but the quick swift swish of my old Newfoundlands tail as he hurried by me. Instead, I was drawn out onto the patio and immediately I had the urge to get dressed. I wanted to run to my kitchen to see my mother there packing my sandwich. I knew she wouldn't be there. I knew my own daughters would be hard pressed to get up at this hour to appreciate the freshness in the smell. The adventure of the soon to be wet pine. Today we'll spend our day with laundry and some historical movies catching up on homeschooling, but I will go out and take some time to remember those special car trips. The candy that I still love, the magazines I still find myself drawn to even though I don't know the actors or actresses.
I am so thankful that it was my husband who said, "Why is your alarm going off at 5?" and I woke up enough to roll out of bed and turn it off. I have been given this moment of remembrance and thankfulness to start my day. I am thankful for this day, today and everyday that I have forward. May you all have the crisp brightness in your day!
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