I was sound asleep when I heard my wake-up call. So loud. So bossy.
The four chickens (whom I neglected to close into their coop last night) were awake.
And they wanted breakfast.
All four were perched on the back steps and calling in through the screen in the backdoor. "Humans! Wake up! We're hungry!"
Dang. Bossy things.
As soon as I appeared all bleary eyed at the door they hopped off the steps, hustled across the porch, and waited (somewhat) patiently by the can of chicken feed in the yard. I fed them and they said "thank you" as best as they could, by jabbing at each other for the best spot at the feeder.
Time to go back to bed. But...
The cat was mewing for food. And then the dogs wanted to go out. And come back in.
And now? I'm up. A little early, but I'm up.
Time for a little tea and a lot of gratitude for the ordinary blessing that this day holds.
There is chai in my cup and two big pots of milk are warming on the stove. (One for yogurt and one for cottage cheese.) The sun is shining in through the windows and it promises to be another beautiful day.
Today. I'll make laundry soap. And do the wash. Then hang it to dry in the sun. (My favorite chore of all.)
Today. I'll make tinctures and syrups for my man who's sick with the flu in high summer. Poor guy. The flu. In summer!
Today. We'll eat more spicy chicken soup. (Don't worry, hens. I'm not holding a grudge about the early wake up. We'll dine on a different bird.)
Today. I'll knit and sew and cook and clean.
Today. When I'll turn off the computer and immerse myself fully in today.
And so it begins, like always. Another perfectly ordinary (yet somehow extraordinary) day.
Today. What will it bring?
