Take time out ...

Yes, I have a pretty laid back life compared to those of you I know that read my blog. But I'd like to remind you my life here isn't always easy and fun. But once in awhile as I begin to feel things collapsing in on me I get unexpectedly rewarded.

I guess most mornings I drag my sorry hind end out of bed with aches and pains, sometimes a hang over feeling in my head without the previous night's consumption of too much alcohol, and a dog who appears out of no where from the heavy down comforter, tail wagging, jumping down and springs to life with a shake he starts his springing up and down ... his signal for "I gotta go -

and I gotta go NOW!"

The house is still dark. Sunrise will come in a matter of minutes. So I grope for my glasses, try to get my land legs, and usually bumping the door frame, walking zig-zag to the kitchen I feel the chilly linoleum of the kitchen on my bare feet, reaching for the coffee pot I fill it with water to heat my tea water, flip on the machine, and all the while have Bacci springing up and down and dancing around my feet giving me the second act of "Oh, Oh, I really have to go NOW!" Most mornings I try to stumble to the bath to do "that man thing" before he gets to go out to do his "dog thing". As I step out into the mudroom a much cooler air hits my face, bare chest, and feet. And like this morning I open the back door and the coldness nearly makes the hair on my arms brittle and my fingers feel like stubs. Bacci bursts out from under my legs to go do his thing and I slam the door behind him. As I wait to let him back in I scan the horizon from west to east. Pike's Peak this time of morning can be an amazingly stunning site. Today though the peak and the Sangre de Christos to the south are blanketed in heavy clouds. It's only as I look to the south and then the east that I am gently rewarded with a beautiful sunrise.

I quickly grab my work pants hanging in the mudroom and slide them on, throw on my insulated barn jacket to cover my bare chest, slide on my boots and step out into the bitter dry cold. I just had to take pictures of the dramatic show taking place in my side yard.

Ah, Life at Wandering Bear Farm ...