This morning the dogs woke me again. I went downstairs with my eyes barely opened and let them out to the yard. I went back to bed. They joined me a bit later. We slept another hour. Nala woke me up. I gave in and started my day.

It took thirteen minutes to start my day. I timed it this morning. I got downstairs, started the coffee then I went and got the paper and yesterday’s mail. While the coffee was perking, I toasted a bagel. It and the coffee were done at the same time.

The bagel was just a bagel until I spread on the black fig jam. That elevated the bagel from simple to magnificent. I yummed my way through both sides of the bagel while the dogs watched. They were hopeful. I gave each of them a piece, a small piece. I am entirely too generous.

When I was a kid, I learned to ride my bike on the street in front of our house. My mother taught me using the age old method of holding the back of the seat, running along side and offering words of encouragement until she felt comfortable enough to let go secretly. When I realized I was doing the riding myself, I yelled triumphantly. I had been given freedom to anywhere my pedaling would take me. The onyy deterrent was snow.

Ice skates and sleds had limited use as both were so dependent on the weather. Sleds needed snow so my sled stayed in the cellar a good part of the winter. My ice skates just needed cold, below freezing cold, except at the swamp, one of the neatest places of my childhood. It was shallow enough that it froze, even in above freezing weather, all around the front and on the canals, tiny canals, leading from the front to the back of the swamp. The water was clear enough I could see everything below the ice, mostly branches and ferns. I always thought it was kind of neat to have a winter picture of summer places.

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