MAKE IT A GREAT DAY: Tuesday morning, January 10th

This morning, even with six and one-half hours of sleep, my eyelids pushed open at 6:55 AM and I was up and moving with a terrific amount of energy that I knew, was once upon a time. The dogs are fed and pottied, as am I, and I was at my writing desk by 7:30 AM, only to be forced to upgrade and reinstall items on an older laptop I have not used in quite some time.

It is moving onto 8 AM and I am attempting to accomplish a number of things before teaching begins at 3:30 PM with a full lineup until 11:00 PM.

I realized that I did not recognize President Richard Nixon’s birthday, yesterday, January 9th. I was born ten months into President Lyndon Johnson’s administration and I do not recall any of it. By the time President Nixon was sworn in, in 1969, I was becoming quite aware of the presidency. My memory doesn’t recollect the 1969 inauguration but I clearly remember his 1973 celebration. What a fantastic occasion it was and it was, I believe, my first introduction to “Hail To The Chief.”

I have still not managed to grab the three emails to which I need to respond. They are each from three dear folks and I hate to rush my responses. I haven’t forgotten you – Chuck, Carol, and Kari! I am just lame!

Chief never complains or indicates he is struggling with his back legs and hips. He moves slowly unless he spies another dog through the Rockhill Avenue fence side or is eager for a treat. However, rising is a challenge. This morning he was backing away from his food dish and his back legs gave out; he gently sat, turned himself around, and rose again. It’s heartbreaking to see his aging infirmities. Right now, his hip is pressed against my ankle as I write. Erma is in the hallway outside the study, and The Sisters are snuggled under the covers of my bed. I love these moments.

Although it is not a frosty morning and we are to reach a high of 45 degrees later in the day, I do enjoy this Robert Louis Stevenson poem.

Winter-Time

Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,

A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;

Blinks but an hour or two; and then,

A blood-red orange, sets again.

Before the stars have left the skies,

At morning in the dark I rise;

And shivering in my nakedness,

By the cold candle, bathe and dress.

Close by the jolly fire I sit

To warm my frozen bones a bit;

Or with a reindeer-sled, explore

The colder countries round the door.

When to go out, my nurse doth wrap

Me in my comforter and cap;

The cold wind burns my face, and blows

Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;

And tree and house, and hill and lake,

Are frosted like a wedding cake.

Make it a great day!

About Wright Flyer Guy

Darin is a single adoptive father, a teacher, playwright, and musical theatre director from Kettering, Ohio.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.