April does her thing; a muddy patch here, a small pink hyacinth there. The ground by the edge of the house is moist and beckoning, desiring that some work be done.
Upstairs, I opened two windows for the first time in months and hung up fresh laundered clothing. Yes, I own a dryer. I prefer the motion of lifting and hanging and smoothing my hands over the damp cloth; making sure it is perfect, with carefully placed creases, and hung correctly, maximizing air flow and shape. It takes time and my fatigue makes sloppy handling. But it is worth it. Of course it requires time. The joy lies in the process of the laundering, smoothing and hanging and the energy spent settles my mind.
There awaits me in our kitchen a ceramic mug of almond coffee laced with heavy cream and honey; along with cherry cordial cake slices for breakfast. Later there will be thick slices of potato cheddar chive toast with squares of butter.
This life is too short for badly boiled coffee and plain oatmeal. There may be mornings for that someday, but not today; not while April does her thing…
690 Saint Paul 