A Time for Silence

I love waking up before the rest of the household, when all the house is silent.

No voices.

No cats running around.

No corgis squeaking squeaky toys.

No background noises from media on computers or cell phones.

But I also love those same sounds once the day is really awake. That same type of silence would be out-of-place, I think.

Years ago when the children were young on an exceptionally weary day, I lay on the couch to nurse the baby to sleep and drifted off myself for a short bit.

The older kids had scattered to friends' house.

I remember waking up to the very quiet house and realizing that would, one day, be my reality. And I wasn't sure I liked it.

In college, several of us owned the same poster. Mine hung on my water closet door. The poster was about how life was full of contrasts, and that what made life meaningful.

For instance, having the flu meant you could stay in bed and lose weight. Having a cold meant you could say in bed and eat.

Or nights of going out and having fun would become dull without nights of staying home with a good book and hot cocoa.

Maybe that's why God created seasons, in nature, in life.

Maybe?

Thoughts?

Serenity in the Morning

"Sleeping in" for me is anything past dawn.

If the sun is up before me, I feel as if the day is wasted.

I love an early morning walk in the quiet of the day before the business begins.

But even before the walk...

I enjoy a cup of coffee in the silent house while I slowly wake up and plan my day.

Too much solitude in life may not be good for a person.

But not enough of it isn't good either.

Before the day makes it demands of me.

I make sure to give the first part of it to God.

And then to me.

Signs of Spring to Brighten Your Day

I know very little about photography as these pictures will show.

Still, I can't resist pointing my cell phone camera at the really love things I see during my mornign walks with Rebekah, just so I can look at them again.

Here are five highlights from Monday.

Where There's Smoke, There's Fire?

 I don't know if it's journalistic instinct or the fact my in-laws had a scanner in their house and chased fires, but I'm pretty quick to act if I see something off.

That "off" this morning was thick black smoke in the distance when I paused at my bedroom window to admire the sunrise.

So I put my oversized slip-ons over my broken toe, slid my coat on over my flannels, grabbed a mask and press pass, and headed out into the tall snow. I got as far as I could get on foot, took some photos just in case, and then plodded back to the house.

Did you know how cold ankles can get without socks in this weather? Brrr....just saying.

By now, one of my sons (Timothy) were awake, so we drove in the direction of a nearby hospital. Lots of smoke, which was already diminishing. Furnaces, perhaps?

At any rate, Timothy turned to me and said, "Coffee?"

To which I replied, "I have coffee at my computer."

But he wanted to treat everybody. So I texted Daniel not to leave for work yet as Timothy had coffee for him (Daniel leaves early to stop for coffee).

And we brought back tea for Rebekah.

So I'm a little behind this morning, but I got outside (my first baby walk since we had all this snow), spent a little quality time with one of my sons, and wound up with a nice Americano to boot (well, no boots, Slip-ons).

Mostly, I was glad to know buildings and people were safe.

Nothing was reduced to ashes on a day people are observing Ash Wednesday.

Stay warm, stay safe, be blessed.

In The Cold Frosty Morning

At 5:30 this morning, I received the following text from my oldest son Christopher:

"If you go outside in the southwest is the crescent Moon. To the left in the 9 o'clock position you can see Venus with the naked eye."

So I grabbed my coat and shoes and phone and trudged down the stairs and out the door.

I had to walk a bit for a clear view past the power lines and trees.

But there it was, just as he said, and I told him so.

He replied, Nice. I was worried about light pollution since it's so faint."

It was a beautiful start to the morning. 

Illustration by Christopher Gleason for "Staked!" Follow him at artworkbytopher.com.

Whirlwind

That's how I'd describe this past weekend.

I left work at nine o'clock on Friday night and came home to a huge mess in my kitchen, which made me very happy.

Timothy had turned it into a test kitchen and prepared prototypes of four recipes I want to highlight in Thursday's Herald-News. And he was experimenting with the different techniques for photographing food, which he wants to use at his own job and for the return of the BryonySeries "Sue's Diner" recipe of the week, which went by the wayside this year during the redesign of the BryonySeries website.

After helping Timothy cleanup, and after working out and showering, it was Saturday, which brought chores, errands, the last edits on a side project, and a trip to Chicago to Del Seoul in Chicago for bipimbap for dinner.

Sunday brought an early services, Panera for breakfast and coffee, some work to complete, a meeting with Phyllis and Rebekah to sift through hundreds of photos to decide placement in the memoir, the traditional feast day dinner with Rebekah at Cracker Barrel, a dance recital for two of my grandchildren, the shooting of photos and videos for work, all of which was followed by a brisk walk, shower, and episode 16 of I Hear Your Voice with Rebekah before I fell asleep.

How can it be Monday already?

But it's a serene morning.

I hear the gentle woosh of cars through the snow outside my window.

My office/bedroom has a miniature Christmas tree (thank you, Joshua and Timothy) and my living room has a larger one (thank you, Rebekah and Daniel).

A fake fireplace softly crackles and glows (thank you, Timothy) and an globe snowflake ornament with a tealight candle (thank you, Sarah) sits by my computer (the one Christopher built for me as a surprise Christmas present a few years ago) with the coffee while the John Gary Christmas album (one of the Christmas records of my youth), very quietly emanates through my speakers, so as not to wake anyone else (thank you, modern technology).

I have not yet looked at my Monday to-do list, although I know it's full, and yet, I also know not one task is unpleasant.

Whether it's a "work" day or a "free" day or a "fiction" day, I like this early part of the morning, th slow wake up while I browse email, news, and social media, sip a nice dark roast coffee, and revel in the quiet while the rest of the house is dark.

Have a most blessed day.

Before the Dawn

We all have different definitions of "sleeping in."

For some, starting a weekend before noon is unthinkable. For others, it's past the time they might rise for work.

For me, it's any time after the sun is up. In fact, a part of me feels I've lost a significant chunk of the day if I waken after the sun does.

I blame early childhood experiences.

Before my maternal grandmother died the summer I turned seven, I spent quite a bit of time at her Chicago home. My grandfather had to be out the door by four o'clock in the morning for work, so she rose around three to prepare breakfast for him, and I invariably rose with her.

The memories are vivid: sitting at the table in the tiny kitchen that used to be a porch, gazing out the little window at my right into darkness, a silent contrast to her bustling in the lit room. I can smell the sizzling bacon and the coffee; I can hear the hiss of the percolator.

After my grandfather left, my grandmother and I headed back to bed for a couple hours.

As a middle school student and a teen, I suffered from insomnia. I often woke abruptly around one in the morning, never drifting back to sleep (i.e. a short nap) until five or so, a problem when one began school at seven-thirty!

I passed those hours reading (middle school) or reading and listening to music (high school).

For the first decade or so of motherhood, I was a nursing mom, so waking up one or more times at night was simply part of normal routine.

Those days merged into my single motherhood days shortly after my youngest turned two. And thus began a dozen years of rising before midnight to deliver newspapers, a job that grew from being responsible for ninety-nine papers to several thousand per night.

I met my second husband during that first year and moved to his childhood home in Channahon during my second year. He and I started our church's first and only youth ministry and remodeled outbuildings on our property to host meetings and events for up to fifteen youth of various ages.

He also set up a coffee pot with a timer in the game room since our kitchen was tiny and had no extra room for a coffee pot. Each afternoon, I'd prepare and schedule the coffee for the next day.

Every morning, shortly after awakening I took the dog outside (by morning, I mean shortly after midnight). He'd wander behind the buildings while I unlocked the door, the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee greeting me, especially welcome on chilly winter mornings.

Then Scooter and I would head back to the house - him for a snack and a nap, me up the metal ladder to my attic office to check email, social media, and slowly wake up. About an hour later, I'd wake up the kids so they could do chores, grab a snack, etc., while I did some housework and packed our lunches.

Yes, lunches. Breakfast was after the route.

The routine today is similar: I wake up in the dark, head downstairs to feed the cats and make coffee, and back upstairs to check email and schedule social media with darkness around me. Gradually, the sun rises and so does my level of alertness.

The biggest decision I make during those initial moments is which coffee pod to choose (Daniel buys a variety of dark roast) and which mug to to choose (as I've been gifted with many from generous family and friends). Here is today's choice.

Good morning! :)

Early Morning Serenity

Sometimes, people express surprise at how early I arise, although, trust me, it's far later than I used to rise when we ran the newspaper routes.

The alarm went off at 11:45, and it was set fifteen minutes ahead to build in "snooze" time. So for many, many, many years, I started each new day the previous day.

There's something enchanting about being awake when the rest of the world is not. There's something unnatural to me about rising after the sun, a sense that half the day is wasted.

And yet, there's also something very delicious on Saturdays with sleeping in, that lazy "I don't have anything pressing to do today" feeling that can only be relished when one works very hard.

As a very little girl and long before paper delivery for I was not even old enough for school, I often spent time with my maternal grandmother on Parnell in Chicago. My grandfather had to be at work early, so she would get up around three a.m. or so to prepare his breakfast. Often, I woke up when she did and trailed her to the kitchen.

Half-awake, I'd sit at the little side table, gazing out the window into the dark nothing, smelling breakfast smells as she moved about the kitchen, hearing the hiss of the percolator.

When everything was prepared, we returned to bed.

Such clear memories, as if they'd happened last month.

My grandmother died the week after I turned seven, and even the paper route is a long-past memory (We let it go in fall 2011). But sitting at the computer each morning in the dark room, cup of steaming coffee beside me as my mind and body gradually gets used to the fact I won't be returning to bed for many hours, I bask in a peaceful centering that's all mine before I give my day to eveyone else.

Early Weekday Mornings

I love the serenity of slowly waking up, hitting snooze, stumbling around to feed the cats and make the coffee, dozing over the computer as I check email, schedule posts, and write my blog.

It's dark outside and quiet inside, save for the sound of Rebekah's fan, lulling me back to sleep, even as the mental stimulation and the caffeine nudges me to the new day.

I love this time.