• hot coffee in my peace mug
• hands that smell like oranges
• freshly washed babies smothered in thick lotion
• a daughter with out-of-control morning hair wearing pink and chocolate brown polka dot leggings, a poofy pink skirt and a soft, cream-colored onesie
• a chilly, wet November day (and some much-needed rain)
• forgoing our usual Today Show and Sesame Street for some Vivaldi, Haydn, Mozart and Boccherini on the radio
• a backyard blanketed in bright green-yellow leaves, too wet (and beautiful, at the moment) to rake
• the not-caring attitude I have regarding my day-old, mascara-smudged eyes thanks to no doctor’s appointments (or any appointments) scheduled for today (the first time this week!)
• ignoring the small mountains of laundry about the house for some puzzle-playing, stick-hitting, “run-and-get-me-Mom” mother-daughter time
“I used to love night best but the older I get the more treasures and hope and joy I find in mornings.” —Terri Guillemets
