A Quiet Morning

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The faucet at the kitchen sink is dripping again. Hmm, I thought we fixed that! It’s amazing how loud it sounds as I lounge in my favorite chair with my morning coffee. Just as I take a sip, the automatic ice-maker deposits its latest round of fresh ice into the freezer’s dispenser. The sudden racket startles me and coffee dribbles down the front of my pretty pink shirt. Now I’m perturbed… even the clocks annoy me! We have two pendulum clocks; a grandfather clock in the dining room and a mantle clock over the fireplace. Usually the pendulums swing at the same pace, but this morning one is out of sync, so the normal “tick-tock” in unison now resonates “tick-tick-tock-tock” instead. How can that be, I ask you? They both show exactly the same time! I take a deep breath – and another sip of coffee. Tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap! Are you kidding me? The obnoxious woodpecker is causing commotion again today. He thinks it’s funny – I know he does – to drill like a jackhammer on the gutters of our house rather than one of the dozen trees in our backyard. I march out onto the deck, flinging my arms like a mad woman to shoo him away. I settle back into my chair, slip my shoes off, put my feet up and grab my cup of coffee; which unfortunately has gotten cold, but I drink it anyway. A faint clank and a whoosh of air tells me the air conditioner has kicked on and there will be a bit of white noise until the temperature inside the house has met its goal. I reach down and pull a light-weight blanket over my bare feet (they get cold when the air is on). A contented sigh escapes me as I begin to relax. Beep, beep, beep! The dryer down the hall indicates the clothes that have long been tumbling are finally dry. If it wasn’t so quiet in here, I might have missed the signal. Wait, what? It’s not quiet in here! It’s chaos! I might as well get up and fold the laundry… and change my shirt!

Playing with words this morning, this is my response to RDP #68 Word Prompt – Play

The Thrill is Gone

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My affair with coffee started in earnest during my working years. As an accountant, I was married to my desk. My computer and I could finish each other’s sentences. Week days were nothing but debits and credits and budgets, oh my!

To divert the monotony, I began to visit the break-room for coffee. One cup became two, two became three – you see where this is going? It used to be just a morning thing, then I decided why not drink coffee all day long? To make the infatuation even worse, my place of employment installed one of those fancy little machines where you could make whatever flavor you wanted! Mocha, Hazelnut, and Butter Pecan were my favorites! When I retired nearly five years ago, I’m sure the line item amount budgeted for coffee was significantly reduced.

Retirement came with considerable changes in routine, but the amount of coffee I drank was not one of them. I still spent hours on the computer, but instead of plugging numbers into spreadsheets, I would string words together to make a story or a poem. Coffee continued to be a reason to get up, take a break and refocus. My affair with coffee lived on!

Soon, I began to rely on coffee to co-author my writing. Some mornings, words awoke with the first cup and sometimes they didn’t appear until after the third. I was convinced there was a direct connection between the number of paragraphs on the page and the amount of coffee I consumed. I remember one chilly morning trying to come up with just the perfect word to fill the void in a poem I was working on. I struggled to find a compromise between the expected word and one with an abstract meaning. I lifted my cup and there it was, mingled in the black liquid magic! The perfect word! Would I have found it were it not for coffee?

Unfortunately, coffee and I will have to part ways! On a completely innocent visit to my doctor, he discovered the truth about my romance with caffeine. For assorted reasons, he suggested I drastically ease my fling with coffee or he wouldn’t allow it at all! Imagine my grief!

The good news is that we don’t have to break-up completely, coffee and me. We can still see each other two times a day. But now, when I go into the kitchen to drain the pot; when the last drop of motivation is in my cup, I wonder where I’ll find the words if they don’t show up before the cup is empty!

My response to today’s one-word prompt: Sympathy (because it is with great sympathy that I end my affair with coffee!)

Grateful Burdens

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As I awake in my nice warm bed from a slumber I don’t really remember, I am aware of the brand new day ahead. I can choose to start a fresh adventure or continue an incomplete pursuit. My first task is simply to decide! Oh, the burdens I bare!

I think of the coffee in the kitchen that will jolt my mind; of how it’s waiting to be poured into some whimsical cup that I have picked up somewhere along the way. With cup in hand I shall ponder; should I read, should I write, should I gaze from my window at the world outside? Oh, the burdens I bare!

I think of the errands that are demanded of me; of the food I shall buy for the meals I’ll prepare in the house I must clean for the people that I love whose clothes I shall wash and iron! Oh, the burdens I bare!

I think of the walk I will take in the late afternoon along the path under the trees where the mere existence of limbs and leaves will wrap me like an old, tattered robe. Which way should I go? Over the bridge or down the abandoned route the deer once forged out of habit? Oh, the burdens I bare!

Later in the day – should I go, should I stay? Out with friends or home with family? Beer or wine? Cheese or chocolate? An old movie or a book by the fire? I’m sure to be perplexed by the number of decisions I am required to make. Oh, the burdens I bare!

Next thing I know, it will be time again for sleep and as always, I shall look back on my day! Did I use it wisely? Did I appreciate the efforts of others? 10:00 or midnight? Nightgown or pajamas? Oh, the burdens I bare!

Yes, I am aware these things are not truly burdens at all. And yes, I am aware the burdens of others can be painful and deep and that in comparison, I have been given paradise on earth. Yes, I am aware of just how blessed I am. Hence it is, in reality, gratitude I feel; not burden!  Oh, these grateful burdens I bare!