It is my early morning hour. A latte has been made (and is being savored). Breakfast has been served. Lunch box is packed and backpack is ready for this Monday morning. Speaking of this Monday morning, it is gray and the air has a bite to it. I walked outside with bare feet to fetch our milk, delivered by a local dairy. I couldn't help but notice the concrete, now silver layers of cold and licking at my soles, a reminder that soon I will need to dust off my moccasins.
Last week - the 4th week of school - and he says he loves it now. I knew he would in his own time. Sweet relief it is to have our weekday mornings flowing smoothly again.
Yesterday we took a day trip to Breckenridge. It felt wonderful to drive up to mountains and spend the day amongst sunshine, crystal clear river water, the aspens showing off their fall splendor - that shimmy-like dance they do so well. As I sat on the rocks and watched my boys skip stones, dip feet and point out colorful trout, I found myself thinking about...well, nothing for a change.
