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 open two windows for the first time in months and hang up fresh laundered clothing.
Yes, I have a dryer. I prefer the motion of lifting and hanging and smoothing my hands over the cloth; making sure it is perfect. It takes time. Of course it takes time. But the joy is in the process and it settles my mind.
There is almond coffee with heavy cream and honey, along with cherry cordial cake for breakfast. Later there will be thick slices of potato cheddar chive toast with squares of butter.
This life is too short for bad coffee and plain oatmeal. There will be mornings for that, but not today; not while April does her thing…
690 Saint Paul 