This morning, it occurs to me that I can remember very few happy mornings. There have been a few, and they've been marvellous, and I can remember them in great and vivid detail. There was one morning when I woke up at my then-boyfriend's parents' house. We were visiting whle in college during a long weekend, I think. I woke up and the rural surroundings offered no traffic, no sirens, no hollering kids, no demand. Just sunlight. And I remember, it was clean and bright. There was a poster on the wall of a mountainscape, and when I woke up I felt like I was in them. I was greeted with a boisterous "good morning, kid!".  I felt so good it gave me goosebumps, and as I remember it, I feel like i want to cry. Later I married my boyfriend and his parents became my inlaws. That bed that I woke up in was my brother-in-law's.

Recently there was a fantastic morning in the mountains. It was the first trip out there in over 7 years. Probably close to 8. I brought the kids. It was a total last-minute decision, and I found a cabin at the foot of Mt. Robson, privately owned by a very lovely German lady. Ben was out hunting and I had the whole weekend to connect with the kids and just get away from it all. We arrived at night, kids sleeping in the car, cabin lit up with white Christmas lights, weather mild and fresh. I couldn't get enough of the SMELL. The smell of the trees! Cedar, pine... and the mountains themselves. I opened the cabin and it was cozy, bedroom night light turned on, kitchen clean and waiting. I hauled the kids in, tucked them in, set up our kitchen and locked the car (although I likely didn't need to). We couldn't really see the mountains and the clouds wre covering the stars. I woke up in the morninh and saw the mountains for REAL out the huge picture window, suddenly revealed in the morning's grey, diffused light. As the sun rose the mountains gained dimension and drama as the sun raked across them. I made coffee. The kids tested their echos. I felt free. I had a smile inside.

Every morning for weeks on end I wake up with storm clouds around my head. Can't work out, addicted to coffee, a cascade of gotta-dos tumbling from when my feet in hit the floor until they leave it again at night. I can't move quickly. I escape on the computer. I got into a fender-bender. I'm angry and sad. I've been taking care of my internal environment as much as I can by making sure I'm fighting yeast (which I'm sure had a full-out rave the night or two after I had my birthday party. how many shots was it?).  I've been dealing.

I need a HAPPY morning!  I went to the body shop this morning and felt swept away by a mechanic saying "how was your weekend, Marge?" (not Marge but somehing close). The old lady at the counter said "really quite good thanks, Bob! And yours?"  (Not Bob, but something like it.)  It was bright and warm in the reception area and Marge got me a cup of coffee and there was a big, old, sedate golden retriever laying on the floor.

I need a "good morning!". I need warmth. Brightness. Beauty. Human contact that's not demanding. Do you know, they give you that at McDonald's here if you go through their drive through for a coffee in the morning. Gosh are they ever cheerful! Makes me forget how lonely I feel.