Here I am, sitting on a little deck, looking out over the harbour with my coffee (eep, no milk, but it will do), a hunk of homemade banana bread, and a fresh Okanagan peach. Alex is inside dozing. It’s warm enough for no coat, cool enough for long pants and a sweater. Fall is here.
J is with her grandparents and I’m torn. Part of me is enjoying this quiet, relaxing morning before Alex gets up and we play tourist for the morning and then do the wedding thing this afternoon and evening. It’s so peaceful and it’s time for just me.
But a little tiny piece of me thinks, wouldn’t it be great if J were here. We could share some banana bread. We could talk about the BOATS! in the harbour. We could snuggle up a chat and giggle the way you can only do with a two year old and you can only do first thing in the morning before the busy child sets in. We could visit the park and play when we go down to the market later. We could take a little walk around the hotel and run on the big lawns.
But...she’s with her grandparents. She has probably had peaches and maybe even some of Bop’s pancakes for breakfast. She’s probably already gone down the slide and mowed the lawn and talked about airplanes and run a few laps of the back yard and brought at least a few books to Bop or Lallie, likely when they had their hands full, and implored “Read?”
I miss my little lady, but since I don’t get mornings like this very often, I think maybe I’ll just take the time to enjoy my book, some coffee, the view, and maybe write a little bit of something. And do it all without the help of a two year old who is clearly having the time of her life somewhere else!
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