Good Morning, My Friends

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Bella, my Siamese, is snoozing on my left and Ashok on my right. I am the buffer that allows them to be in each other’s vicinity with some peace. Buster slumbers in my yoga room where I left him after a particularly soothing pranayama practice this morning. Grounded and sated, I slipped on a jacket and made myself a smoothie with decaf coffee, a ripe frozen banana, greek yogurt and raw cacao powder. Sweetened with a little stevia, it tasted like a yummy milkshake but felt more like a vitamin with all its health benefits.

Wanting more and something with a little warmth, I buttered a piece of cinnamon Ezekial bread and grilled it in my little non-stick skillet. My stove, still dirty from cooking the last few days, provided once again. I made some Teeccino the other night and removed it from the refrigerator in its beautiful antique glass milk jug. I poured the black liquid into one of my favorite mugs and lightened it with half-n-half, a little soy milk and a few drops of stevia. It is spicy and warm in contrast to the sweetness of the buttery cinnamon bread.

I remember who I was when I bought that comfortable Starbucks mug. I was married and very confused at how someone I loved very much could be at once so special and then so cruel to me. Mostly, I was terrified at how it would all turn out. But, that mug was so delicious and comfortable in my hands on cold Michigan mornings that I returned to the store and bought several. I wanted comfort, and I have often found it in coffee mugs – liquid warmth and smooth soft edges that fit snugly in my small hands. No wonder I struggle with abstaining from the bean that wreaks havoc on my nervous system. My sister finds my struggle so interesting. I find it exasperating.

 

I check my email and find a new post from one of my favorite bloggers. In Virginia, she writes about the “The Thaw” and the relief that comes from snow turning into liquid. I remember how great spring felt when I lived up North. It turned my seasonal clock upside down as I’ve always dreaded summer when living in the South. But summer up North is not summer down South. It is delicious with it’s soft warmth and slightly cool evenings. Fall is my favorite season here bringing its relief from the too hot and humid temperatures that reach into October. It was my least favorite season up North as it signified the too fast slide into winter’s frigid grasp. Seasons are relative it seems. I comment to let my blogger friend know how beautiful her writing is but how differently I experience the arrival of spring.

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I have an appointment to get my roots done this morning – one of the few unnatural things I do to myself to slow the aging process. I google ideas to keep the damage to my hair to a minimum and wonder if I could embrace my gray. I know friends who’ve done it, and they look amazing. I plan to ask my hairdresser about it this morning. Most of my hair is mildly graying, but I’m solid gray at the temples. I think it might look interesting with my curls, but I don’t know for sure. It’s such a long path to get there if I don’t like it.

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Rain is forecast today with cooler temperatures settling in for maybe the last time this spring. It will be 38 tomorrow night, and I am looking forward to bundling up a little and hanging out. The temperatures are already climbing, and I’ve been overcome with the sense of dread about what summer will bring. I want to go hiking next weekend, and I’m already to the point where I will need to head north for more comfortable temperatures. This means it will be more difficult to get out in nature in a way that is soothing for me. Reviving my soul will cost more and consume more travel and vacation time. But is also means the scenery will change and I look forward to being in the mountains. Perhaps a change of scenery will be good.

Have a great weekend, y’all…… Namaste.

 

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