Monday

By five thirty I'm out of bed and begin warming up the house before the kids get up for school. I turn the radio to NPR where it plays quietly from it's home on top the refrigerator. Today's Monday.....proclaimed the most "unfavorite day of the week" by the kids in this house. Coffee's dripping and huckleberry scones are in the oven by 5:50. (I love scones. The recipe is just a couple of steps different from biscuits but taste oh so much better, though my youngest would argue that. Biscuits and gravy are his favorite.) Scones and thick slabs of fried ham and onions are planned for breakfast, a nice way to start off "the most unfavorite day" I'm thinking. The house is beginning to smell great and I'm yearning for a mug of strong Joe. There's lots to do today and I need that kick start. But the red puppy is whining from her crate cave. She needs to take care of some business outside before I do anything else. I've got just about 18 minutes before the scones come out of the oven. So I pull on some rubber boots and my down jacket over my bed clothes. We venture out together into the cold.

The morning temperatures haven't seen above freezing for almost a month. I guess winter is here in earnest. While the puppy is out making her rounds, I poke my head into the chicken coop. The birds aren't up yet and I can see only fluffed up mounds of different colored feathers in a line across the rafters of the coop all snuggled together. It'll be dark for several more hours so I lay down some chicken mash mixed with a little cracked corn for later. The birds seem to appreciate food right when waking to help warm their bodies after a cold night. The rabbits are still snoozing in their individual cages. I'm not too worried about them. They can tolerate very cold temperatures without much complaint. I'll feed and water them a little later.

As I start making my way through the snow back toward the porch I can see the lights of the warm house streaming out from the kitchen window like a beacon through the darkness. I think of what lies inside: happy, healthy sleeping kids, a strong, safe place to live, lots of home-grown food, my own warm bed (which I won't be back into until tonight), happiness. The only thing lacking is my mountain boy husband home from the Great White North. But he'll be home by weeks-end ready to celebrate family.

Life is good.