mornings here do not begin with a rooster's call or hot buttermilk biscuits or freshly laid eggs cracked straight into a cast iron skillet*. there are no cows to be milked or goats to be fed*. eggboy doesn't own overalls and my flowery dresses have been packed away since august. and sadly, we don't have a fuzzy record player*.
dolly parton's "jolene" is our alarm of choice, a gluten-free and dairy-free sweet potato-crusted quiche with collard greens and caramelized onions fills our bellies, and our most strenuous morning activity is pushing down the french press. perhaps we talk about the goings on in the middle east and perhaps i get a text from donny, looking for company while he stands in the cronut line.
egg wears two pairs of pants, three shirts, and work gloves. i stay in my pjs and throw on my parka and uggs. the furthest fields are 20 miles away, so down the country roads we zoom! it's a long ride, and it's nice to spend those extra few minutes with him before his longggg work days.
when i drop him off, i can see the frost on the ground. the winter is coming!
npr accompanies my drive home. yesterday it played molly on the shore. though there wasn't a shore in sight, i pretended real well.