The trumpet-light of the morning streams onto my sleeping eyes, warming my cheeks before I wake. McKinley arrives, giggling with impish delight as he slithers into my bed. “Hey, Baby,” I say, ” Why don’t you crank open that window for me? Let some fresh Spring air in.”
“Oh-Kee-doh KEE!” he sings as he scrambles off the bed and cranks open the casement window. The coolness wafts onto my cheeks. The chickens are clattering and clucking beneath my window, and their hen-talk is loud and complaining, filling my room, and McKinley is giggling again, which means he’s clearly up to no good–another impish plan is probably being put into effect. I think he’s drawing something on my feet. Andrew is trying to sleep more, but I know he’ll not be able to hold off much longer–he doesn’t have the same talent for lingering in the bed that I do. Besides, he’s the Revered and Talented Coffee Maker. And there’s waffles to be had at the community center this morning, and then a day of work, cleaning up our yard, which is no small task, let me tell you. And, oh, I should just get up, get on with it, but the Pillowtop Bed is so comfy, my face pressed into its cloud, and the sunlight is so hot–really, I’m sunbathing in my bed–and I can hear Renee in her room, singing some song with her angel voice, and the quilt is all a-tangle around us, and there’s an orchid blossom that’s waking on my dresser, and everything is blessed with simple joys.
The orchid blossom. At first I was disappointed that I didn’t get it in focus, but it actually fits, in a fuzzy newborn blossom sort of way.
My plum tree is now in full flower. I took this picture yesterday, after sundown, and it has an interesting blue-ness, I think.