1/2 Cup of Sleep

Daylight savings time is over and the desire to hybernate is setting in. I wake to the sound of Chris asking me if the power has gone off. The clock is blinking. Yes, the power has most certainly gone off. It's 5:49am. It's dark outside. The wind whips around whistling through the ever more naked trees, and everything sparkles with beads of moisture. I assume it rained last night. The dogs only make it halfway around the block before a chill wind tickles their bellies and they want to go back home. It's still dark. The neighbors lights are slowly blinking on, as morning disturbs slumber from house to house I wonder if their fighting hybernation instincts too. It's cold! This morning is the first time I really feel it hit my bones. The dogs waddle up the stairs dragging their leashes behind them. Breakfast and treats for everyone. Chris is on his train, on his way to the flower market, and I am listening to the gentle rumblings of the tea kettle, waiting to hear that distant whistle. The train sounds first, crossing the bridge. Then, as if in jealousy my kettle hums a third above. Coffee for me, steam for the orchids. My phaleaenopsis has opened another glorious bloom for me. A spot of spring in my window sill. How strange! The plant is even shooting up a second spike to fill with blooms. If I play my cards right I will have flowers until Christmas. The gang will gather this weekend to honor Li'l Jess. I can't believe we've been without her for a year. It's no wonder the sun was out so little this year. "Funny" Ed had said "Time flies when you don't want it to, and then stops dead." The snow enshrouded us, the day she was buried. I wonder if it will snow again this year. Gotta bundle up. It's time to catch my train. Even my cup of coffee is sleepy.