cream each morning and rejoicing in the sunlight. This morning though - bright, blue, and warming quickly - I am finally falling into my old rhythm. I have a list of things to do in blue chalk on my table, a sleeping toddler - who is more and more content with her milk-free nights. Half a grapefruit, and my writing. Today, I am making final comments on a friend’s draft, before sending it home to her, writing the long overdue letters, reading Chesterton ( I promised to give him another chance!), and running again, if I can get my stroller through the driveway! I have yellow roses on my table, tulips on the shelf, and the long-living Easter flowers still laughing on the altar.
I don’t write well on bright days, but I edit nicely. My brain is outside, under the trees or slopping in the mud. It’s eight-thirty in the morning, and I’m happy with how I’ve lived those first 4 hours. It’s such a blessing to begin the week this well, I’m grateful and glad.