My alarm goes off. It's timed to give me a minute of wake-up before the traffic and weather report at 5:38. Summer has taken its long days with it, and it is now dark at this time. There's a chill in the morning, making my warm, cozy covers even more tempting to stay beneath.
I pad downstairs, with a half hour to get ready. The key to making that work is prepping my food and clothing the night before, but I don't always take my own advice. I take my breakfast (a variation on this shake recipe), and lunch (dinner leftovers with some delicious liver pate) out of the refrigerator, and put them into my bag.
I head up the street to my bus stop. The stop is towards the end of the route, so the bus's scheduled arrival time is just a suggestion. I don't want to count on it being late, so I push myself up the hill at a good clip. Of course, today, the bus is late.
The streetlights on this stretch of road have been out for weeks. As I wait in the darkness, I wonder when they will be repaired. Every moment they are out saves on electricity. It also means that much less light pollution. Still, I feel vulnerable, alone at the stop at this early hour, and even more so without the light.
Usually, I meet my brother, who is headed in the same direction and who drives me for the last leg of my commute. I look forward to our visits. We chat about this and that, he quizzes me about his sports trivia and then marvels at my ignorance of most things sporty, and before we know it, we have arrived.
Today, he's not driving in, so I wait for my third bus of the morning. It's standing-room-only. Again. It's great that there are so many riders on this route. However, it would be nice if it were well-used, but not to the point of having no seats available. I maneuver to get a handhold, and then attempt to practice my best one-handed rush-hour newspaper folding and reading technique.
I would have gotten to my office a few minutes sooner, but I like to get off a stop early for a slightly longer morning stroll. I get some water and prepare my morning beverage of apple cider vinegar with honey. The sun has risen, and will stream right in my window for the next hour.
I change shoes and meet a small group of colleagues for a walk. We set a stopwatch to time our pace, and set off with a brisk tempo. As we work on our outsides, our insides flourish, too. Our conversation topics (when we're not recovering from a strenuous interval or a hill!) range all over the place as we share things which have nothing to do with budgets, programs, or projects. Today's weather is perfect for our outing.
My bus pulls into its bay, and I see that I've missed my connection by 2 minutes. My backpack is heavy today, so I was looking forward to getting that connecting bus. The next one won't come for another 20 minutes. In that time, I could have walked home. I adjust my pack, and engage the waist strap to help balance the load. And why not? The weather is still wonderful. I walk on whichever sidewalk gives me more rays of the warm, late afternoon sun.
Our neighbor is outside with his cute-as-a-button grandson. I walk over to say hello, and to marvel over how Mr. Cuteness has grown. We have the best conversation we've had in 11 years of living next door to each other. Babies are very effective conversation starters.
I have a little over an hour before the TruffulaBoyz and I need to pile into the car for their sports class. While Mr. Truffula works on dinner prep, I grind up eggshells in the blender which I've dedicated to that task. I take the powdered shells out to the compost pile and garden. While I'm out there, I see the tulsi which I want to harvest before it is even more past its prime. I pull out the plants, and am happy to rediscover the anise hyssop which I thought had died.
Back in the kitchen, I pull off the tulsi leaves, inspect them for dirt and mystery flecks, put them into a jar, and add Everclear to start a tincture. I check on the beet kvass I started yesterday, and get a new batch of water kefir going.
We're back from the class, and the Boyz are in bed. I still hear chatting from their general direction, but ignore it for the time being. I remember that the lima beans I soaked and cooked earlier in the week are still waiting for me in the refrigerator. I take them out and whiz them into a Lima Bean Hummus. I use only one clove of garlic, but it turns out to be super-strong. Oops!
I make myself a cup of tulsi tea, using a few fresh leaves I'd set aside earlier. Mmm...! I settle into my email inbox, and my online projects for the evening.
I've crossed a few things off of my list, but it is still quite long. It's tempting to keep going, as I have on so many nights. I think of Annette's post on using this season for slaying dragons and shedding habits that aren't working for you any more. Instead of making another cup of tea, I log out and turn off the light in the kitchen. I check on the Boyz as I pass their room. They are fast asleep; one is horizontally across the bed. My alarm is set for 5:37.