Have to have right mug!
Not sure why, with shelf of mugs?
… or its a bad day

My morning routine is pretty set in concrete with a strict time table.

Alarm at 5:15AM.

Make coffee, shower and in kitchen by 5:30AM.

Coffee and whatever I feel my stomach is ready for for breakfast. Most often, my stomach is NOT ready for anything.

With my coffee, start with reading my Bible then the newspapers on the iPad.

Still start with the Detroit Free Press. When I was a kid, our neighborhood in Grand Rapids, had DAILY MORNING DELIVERY by a PAPERBOY of the Free Press. I cannot remember a time in my life when the morning didn’t start with the Free Press.

First sports then the front page. Though on the Free Press App, more and more sports stories end up on the Front / TOP STORY page, I still go to the sports page first.

After the Free Press, its USA TODAY, sports first then front page and finally Google News and the Guardian (UK).

At 5:55AM, I am in the kitchen assembling something for lunch. Not a lot of variety to my lunches as I can’t think of much at this time. I think about how in High School, I made a ham sandwich everyday for the same reason.

By 6:00AM, I am back upstairs getting dressed.

Before 6:10AM, I want to be in the car.

I know all this and I have done this routine time and again, yet when I open the cupboard to get a mug for my coffee, if I don’t see my regular mug, the morning train comes to a stop, my brain freezes and I stare at the stack of other mugs, trying to decide which one to use.

And it can take a long time to decide.

Throws off the rest of the schedule.

The mug won’t change the way the coffee tastes, but it does.

The mug won’t change the way the day goes, but it does.

Even more stupid, we have several other mugs in the exact same style as my favorite, but the color scheme and the company logos on the mug are different.

But if I don’t have the right mug, the day, while not ruined, doesn’t feel right.

It’s going into a fight with one boot off or whatever they say in Texas.

Later in the day, you could look at me and ask, “gosh, whats wrong?”

If I was honest, I would say, “didn’t have the right mug.”

kitchen table
set for breakfast, room smelled
of coffee, bacon

Admit it, you can smell the bacon.

You can smell the bacon and it made you smile.

Last week while visiting my sister Lisa, she made bacon and eggs from breakfast on cold dreary day and I can still smell that happy smell.

This is based on this excerpt from Charlotte’s Web.

When Mr. Arable returned to the house half an hour later, he carried a carton under his arm. Fern was upstairs changing her sneakers. The kitchen table was set for breakfast, and the room smelled of coffee, bacon, damp plaster, and wood smoke from the stove.

Yesterday’s quote from Charlotte’s Web got me to thinking about this great book.

Sure sure it’s all about teaching kids about life and death and everything.

But for me it was just a joy to read and have read to you.

I never saw the great, dark picture of life that others painted from the book. (This is a reoccurring theme in my life of missing the possible intended pathos for the romance.)

Much of what is written about Charlotte’s Web reminds me of when I was in college and one Professor assigned a book that was written by another Professor at Michigan that I had a good relationship with.

To answer the first Professor’s assigned questions about the book, I walked over to talk to the Professor who had authored it.

That Professor looked at me, tossed the paper with the questions on his desk and said, “That guy has been telling me things about my book I never knew since I got here.”

EB White himself read the book for a recording and you can listen to it hear from YouTube.

(If you want to download this as an MP3 and add to your phone to listen to later or while at pool, use https://www.onlinevideoconverter.com/.)

For me, the magic of hearing EB White reading his words in his New England accent with his own phrasing, pausing, infliction and emphasis is real and beyond words.

You can smell the bacon and wood smoke and can hear the geese and see the barn.

One last tidbit on the book, I read somewhere that when EB White submitted the manuscript to his publisher, it was ready to go to press without any EDITING.

On the one hand, what else would you expect?

On the other hand, it is still a fascinating comment on EB White.

Woke up to alarm
it’s such a different day
after a good sleep

Wake up refreshed.

Who thought such a goal would be so desired and so seldom realized.

I wake up some mornings and sincerely thank God for a beautiful, restorative rest.

And the impact it makes on the day to come cannot be under estimated.

Where is sleep and why is so hard to come by?

“The night seemed long. Wilbur’s stomach was empty and his mind was full. And when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, it’s always hard to sleep. “

From Charlotte’s Web by EB White

Standing by the door
Last sips of coffee, comfort
My resolve kicks in

Sometimes the bravest person in the world is the one who sets down their coffee cup, gets into their car and backs out of the driveway.

In his Gospel, Matthew writes:

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:34 (NIV)

I was going to write that the troubles of my day cannot measure up to the guy trying to cross the border in Texas.

But who can say?

Each day has trouble of its own SPECIFIC to me.

Only I can know the height and depth of how these troubles affect myself.

I shouldn’t discount what I am going through even if I think my trouble’s don’t ‘measure up’.

Don’t discount ever, the trouble in each day.