Friday, May 25, 2012


There’s a pattern that needs a bit of a tamper: I post too late in the day. Why do I do it? Because life grabs my attention earlier. Only after the last dish is drying on the rack after dinner do I feel I can get down to Ocean. By then, I fight sleep. Ed will have long given up the battle. No, that’s not even accurate – there will not have even been a battle.

The Cat has taken to waking us at 4:45, in the predawn hour, and it’s then hellishly difficult to recapture sleep. Especially when the sweet but princely rascal has taken over a chunk of the bed.

I toss and look outside and I see that yesterday’s clouds have disappeared. Maybe I should ride out to capture that elusive sunrise? I failed last time, but now, at 5, maybe I can come face to face with it?


Ah, Rosie in the morning – it is the best and the worst time to ride her. In the still hours of a beautifully tinted sky, it is heavenly out there, on the empty rural roads. But it’s also quite cool. Dragging myself from a warm bed, to the nippy air of predawn. When will I learn that in Wisconsin, it is rarely warm at 5 a.m.?

This time I do make it in time for a sunrise by the lake. Oh, nice, so nice!  If you haven’t witnessed daybreak lately, consider waking up for it. It’s very humbling.


I ride back the longer way. I’ll warm up soon, I’m not that far from home...


...and the loveliness around it.



The rest of the day?

Oh, all very familiar. A bike ride to Paul's. A Craigslist exchange (computer for my mom!). A quiet evening at home, with a beautifully simple supper of a stove-top roasted chicken. I was reminded of this method of preparing a chicken over on this blog -- a daily read for me because it recounts, without fuss, the beautiful details of a quiet life. (They're Americans living in France, though,  just last week they got married in New York, because, finally, finally, after thirty years, they could!).


So as I write, I’m “roasting” a chicken – getting up just once to throw in mushrooms, shallots, garlic, tomatoes. Pinches of lemon thyme, and rosemary, and parsley from the garden, covered, simmered, nothing more.

I am so content.