The bare branches of the big willow outside my office window hang in frozen stillness. The outside world has a soft blue-gray tint as the snow reflects the pale orange of the soon-to-rise sun in the eastern distance. I can feel just the smallest of drafts through the window glass. I'm not surprised, it is a frigid 7 degrees on the Fahrenheit scale outside. My weather app says it feels like -5. The coffee is hot and Steely Dan is playing in the background. My little wooden cigar store Indian stares with a stern expression, perhaps because the plant on the cabinet clearly needs some water.
It is a good Sunday morning. Praise God for his blessings.
Later this morning I will have to shovel the drive and sidewalks. I see the plow already made its rounds, the leavings pushed into my drive. We lucked out in the winter storm yesterday. More rain and sleet fell than snow. We got a few inches as opposed to the forecasted half a foot. I shall not complain -- not even about the temperature. It is winter, it is always cold this time of year.
I have to be in High Ground City for trainings early in the morning. I'm leaving after dinner to make sure I'm on time. I have no doubt I will wake fresh and ready for the day on the morrow, despite not staying in a Holiday Inn Express. No, my reservations are for the chain's namesake brand.
I plan on having potato soup and BLT sandwiches before I hit the road tonight. Look at me, saving the company on eating money.
I hope you have a great Sunday.