I'm feeling so stifled right now I can't think of anything interesting to write about. I have so much on my mind. I keep telling myself to stop thinking so much, stop analyzing things. I feel that downward drop coming. But, here I am, as this habit of blogging every day is starting to take hold. As I review my day, one scene comes to mind.
Almost every morning, my grandmother will knock on my door and we will chat about our plans for the day, for the week, and anything else that needs to be discussed. I call this the morning report. I should explain that we always chat outside while sitting on a picnic bench. We live in a sort of divided house, like a duplex, and the bench is near both our front doors.
This morning was a little different because when she knocked, I was still in bed. I think she heard Princess O taking the dog out and assumed I was awake. After all, it was 8am. Since we've moved here, I am an earlier riser, so this isn't an outlandish expectation. (Please notice I said "earlier riser", not to be confused with an early riser which I am not, nor will ever be, I hope). Well, if you read my post yesterday you may remember we spent the day at Disneyland. Fun, but exhausting. Absolutely exhausting! I gave myself permission to stay in bed late this morning.
Princess O answered the door and told grandma, at my request, to please give me 20 minutes as I was still in bed. No problem. I got up, reluctantly, and stumbled to the coffeepot. As it began gurgling and brewing, the best sound in the world, I washed my face and pulled my hair back, slung on my jeans and a v-neck. I was envisioning a morning chat, me fresh-faced with a mug of steaming, delicious coffee in my hand, enjoying the morning air. I headed out with my coffee, and was greeted with a face full of feathers.
The air was thick with small, white feathers! There was a small snowstorm of feathers surrounding my grandmother as she sat on the bench taking feathers from one pillow and stuffing them into another. Quite a scene! Add to it that the feathers were tiny and covering her head to toe, all over her black clothes, in her hair, gathering in the tops of her shoes, and it was surreal. I laughed and she laughed and then she grabbed another handful and threw it into the air! Good times!
The only problem with this, of course, was that my mug had no lid and the surface of my perfect cup of coffee was slowly collecting bits of feathers. I tried to keep drinking it, I really wanted that perfect morning moment! I tried to close the top of the mug off with my hand, but it's large, and the feathers were slipping in through my fingers. Oh, well. I gave up after a couple fluffy sips. I had no desire to see what the effects would be of drinking 50-year-old feather bits.
My grandma and I were very entertained by the swirling feathers as we chatted and arranged our week. I may not have had the perfect coffee moment, but the memory of my grandma sewing up the pillow with feathers in her hair will not be forgotten!