I write in the dark of a quiet morning. Outside my window the sky is barely beginning to lighten. Treetops toss their heads in a dawn dance.
The furnace clicks, then hums and warmth fills the rooms. My cup of tea sits alongside the computer and from time to time a sip of chamomile/peppermint soothes my throat.
It's Friday. Tim's gone to work. My parents arrived last night and are not yet up. I hear stirrings from the guest room and will soon go prepare breakfast. During these quiet moments I reflect on the weekend ahead and my birthday on Sunday. Another year passes, full of the mixed drink that is life - a mélange of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, hope and despair. Life is like that no matter what one's age.
Being with those I love and those who love me is the best way to celebrate. Quiet, everyday pleasures become more meaningful shared. I'm looking forward to this weekend. We have nothing big planned, just being together. I'm so thankful.