Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Daybreak. Coffee. The Big Two

My friend, Slim Randles is back again as Wednesday's Guest. This essay is a bit different from most of his others that are laced with lots of humor. This one is laced with a bit of homespun philosophy. I like it, and hope you do, too. Since we are not down at the Mule Barn where coffee is served in industrial-sized mugs, maybe you will join me in a cup of tea. I promise it has enough caffeine to stir the old brain muscles into wakefulness.

While Slim is entertaining us here, I am over at The Blood Red Pencil blog today, with the inside story about Untreed Reads. Never heard of that publisher? Here's your chance to find out a bit about them. Good folks there.


There’s something so satisfying about getting out of bed when the world is still dark and quiet and resting. Making the coffee gives us time to scratch and think. Well, scratch, anyway. Most of that thinking will start after about the third cup.

But it’s a quiet time. A private time. When the world is dark, and there isn’t yet a hint of pink over the eastern mountains, it’s very good. We can relax. No one is expecting anything from us right now. Our guilt can take some time off, and we can listen to music or work a crossword puzzle or turn on the TV and watch the weather guy discuss millibars and troughs.

Sunrise at my little piece of Heaven
Soon enough, we’ll have to be out there living for others: our bosses, our customers, our animals, our fields. But right now no one needs us except the dog, and she does well on kibbles and an occasional drive-by ear rumple.

We can look out the window at the eastern glow and wonder what will happen in the hours until our world turns dark again. People will be born and people will die. People will win honors and people will go to jail. People will create things today that live past them and people will disappear forever. People will write about these things and other people will read about these things.

And then the world will go dark and dormant on us again and we’ll think about what happened in our tiny portion of this huge moving amalgam and hopefully we’ll sleep easily tonight. Then, when we arise tomorrow and head for the coffee pot, we can think about what happened today, and how it has made us slightly different for taking on the next tomorrow.

Come to us, daylight. Bring us the new day. But do it gently, please, and slowly enough for one more cup.
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If you like what Slim shares here, you will enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight, and they make perfect gifts for any occasion,

In order to provide these columns for free and still buy groceries, Slim has sponsors, and the current sponsor is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad:

Beethoven never heard his Ninth Symphony, but you can. It begins with a free hearing test. Beltone.  1-866-867-8700.

3 comments:

LD Masterson said...

A very nice, thoughtful piece from Slim. It's funny how different it seems between going to bed after everyone else and getting up before them. I wonder why.

Chris said...

Hi Maryann, just stopping by to say how delightful your blog is. Thanks so much for sharing. I have recently found your blog and am now following you, and will visit often. Please stop by my blog and perhaps you would like to follow me also. Have a wonderful day. Hugs, Chris
http://chelencarter-retiredandlovingit.blogspot.ca/

Maryann Miller said...

Hi, Chris, and welcome. I will go visit at your place. (smile)Thanks for following.

LD, for me those times of utter quiet before the day started with all the activity were always such peaceful times, it made me in a better mood to face the day. I think like Slim said, it is good to have those few moments with yourself in thoughtful contemplation. We get so caught up in "doing" we forget about simply "being."