I rolled out of bed at 9:38am. On a Saturday morning, I got out of bed at twenty-to-ten. You don’t have to get how nice that was, but I do, and it was glorious. Busby was still snoring in his crate at the head of my bed, and Tate was curled into his accustomed little fox roll at my knees. I rolled over, powered up the Blackberry, and scrolled through several good tidings after last night’s posts. Thank you to everyone. I sincerely appreciate your concern and fond wishes.
As for today, though, I’ve just watched the morning fog lift off the river. I’ve had my shower and powered up the laptop to wish the world a good morning. I’ll be heading downstairs to mow the lawn shortly, but I don’t hear much activity up the block so I’m hesitant to rev up the mower. For now, I’m enjoying the view over the river and Riverwalk and into the park across the way… the view that sold me on this house to begin with. It’s been my little corner of pastoral life in the middle of central Lansing. There’s a blue heron wading in the shallows, and I hear the ducks bickering from time to time. The trees across the water are just starting to show the first signs of changing leaves, and I likely won’t be here to see them in their full autumnal finery. I have, however, gotten a lead on a potential replacement.
I’m heading downstairs to let the dogs out, put on coffee, and start breakfast. As I mentioned last night, I’ve got my heart set on a nice, fat omelet and crisp, buttery toast.
There’s a kayaker on the river, now. Good day for it. Better days are coming.