Routine.

First things first, hit the little button on the phone alarm and give myself five more minutes of sleep. Do it again. Maybe even again. It's now 5:20. Do the stretch that Val Leoffler said would change my life if I did it everyday. So far so good. Get out of the German flannel sheet layers of a warm bed, try to remember where I put my glasses, head to the bathroom to pee. Turn on the kitchen light, check the temps--this morning "outside" read 18.2º and "inside" 51.1º--put on the water for tea, or for the unusual morning, like this one, coffee. Grab the dogs' cong and stuff with kibble and a little chicken, start working on the fire. This morning I had to scoop out some of the ash in order to make sure there would be enough room for the wood that will be necessary throughout the day. Cut up a little kindling, set it in just so, crumple up newspaper, mostly unread, and give it a light. I've been known to be a little heavy handed with the fire as of late, which generally means I put too much in to start and then it doesn't, start, or does but goes out easily. Start with pine, get it going, move to some hard wood to keep it hot while I'm out, off to a walk with the dogs in the now snowy meadow and maybe, if it isn't too icy, I'll walk to work.

Get my phone, calendar, wallet, sunglasses, warm hat, and camera into my backpack. Start thinking about what's going to be for lunch. Take the dogs out to pee and poop and run away from me because they love the snow so much they'd rather be prancing around and in trouble than inside and eating breakfast. Remember to find my slippers, again, but wear my crocks out and freeze my toes. I often freeze my toes. Turn my attention to the blue sky, the first light of day, the snow stuck to the pines in my backyard. Think, "wow, I really live here."Start thinking about what's on my schedule for work. Decide there is nothing I need to prepare for; am relieved that the days of feeling like I have to prepare are over, at least for right now. Think about what to wear to work. If I walk, I won't be able to wear my pants (cotton, the death fabric in winter) so will have to plan for more in my backpack.

Start thinking about the time, look at the time, remember the dog walk will be a little slow getting there due to the icy roads. Think about the one homeless guy here and worry for him. It's now 20º, but that doesn't make it warm enough to be an older person living in the frozen wilds; even if your voices are telling you it's the only safe place to be. Wonder why it is that I've had cold toes, due to improper foot attire, since I was a very young person. What does this say about me? Okay, time to stop writing so I can get the toaster out and my little egg pan. I need to make my lunch, clean up my coffee dishes, make my bed.

It doesn't vary much, this routine. The weekends and holiday's are different, of course, but still recognizable. I could run a clock by my routine, and be about in the same place at the same time every morning. Like today, a little behind due to writing and ready to fry my eggs.

What's your routine in the morning?