My feet land on the cold floor reluctantly. The house is cold. The fire burned out last night. There are no cinders to revive it. So we don our sweaters and slippers and get to the work of building a fire. A spark and we will be warm. Wee one begins one of his ongoing monologues about trucks and buildings and how the two will soon be one.
When he interrupts his train of thought to ask, " What is the job today?"
Today we bake bread and hot cross buns and watch big fat snow flakes fall from the sky.
But first breakfast. Oatmeal, raisins, milk...and coffee for mom.
After breakfast, Wee one and I negotiate the terms under which a three year old may spend the day in his pj's. We have a toothbrushing parade around the living room. And then we take care of our morning chores. I am helped with bed making and transporting dog bed from the bedroom to its post by the woodstove. I am given an extra hand in adding flour to the bread dough.
All three of us take off to our own corners. Teen heads outside to feed the animals and bring in firewood. Wee one gets back to the important work of dump trucks and wooden blocks. I fold laundry, sweep and vacuum. Enjoying the rhythm of our mornings and the small routines that keep home running.
We come together on the couch to read a little of Mother West Winds Children. Teen takes to his room where I hear little Grateful Dead coming from his stereo. Wee one and I share another book and a local apple we found in Farmington last week.
I sit down to a cup of tea and finish the three needle bind off of the vest I am nearly finished with. While the teen sits down with the wee one and plot great construction projects involving...trucks and building blocks.
Morning is nearly over. Soon the bread will be out of the oven, ready to be eaten with lunch; as yet undetermined. Wee one will speak with his tad at noon. After lunch we will read stories and my afternoon will be filled with gathering sap, hot cross buns, bathroom painting. Teen will be off to his peer leadership meeting.
These days at home are full, the rhythm healing after our hectic day yesterday.
Thank goodness for a simple life....