Slow Saturday mornings are becoming a favorite of mine. Michael bakes some tasty breakfast. Either eggs/sausage/potato burritos or a gluten free (yeah right) scone, or chocolate chip buttermilk pancakes. Yep. This morning it was scones.We miss having our old neighbor Larry who gave us more berries last summer than we knew what to do with. We planted 18 blackberry bushes and 6 raspberry bushes, but only one blackberry and one raspberry bush made it. I guess the starts were a gamble to begin with.
All of that goodness including a creamy cup of coffee in one of our artisan mugs. This morning it was a Tara Dawley mug. She beautifully forms these soft white porcelain mugs then writes (with very awesome handwriting) poetic thoughts and gray-washes over the writing. I don’t know the ceramic verbiage, but I appreciate it!
Then there is the low point in the morning. Wah, wah. The last sip. The last sip of coffee meaning, after this there is no more lounging, but something productive must come. Like the cleaning up from all of the baking, because Michael has moved on to mowing the yard before it rains.
The time is now. The last sip of no-longer-warm coffee sits in the cup. I hesitate and then I go for it. It’s officially time to muster up the energy that cup of jo gave me, flood the house with pop music, find those ballerina shoes Hensley is not-so-patiently asking for, and get on with the day!