Live blogging my breakfast, or How to bore both of your loyal readers to tears

I sit at the breakfast table munching a bowl of Corn Pops this morning. The sun is rising bright in the eastern sky. The brightness belies the frigid temperatures. The backyard is covered with snow. There is a drift across the patio. I can see two Bradford pear trees from where I sit. The one on the right hand side is covered in fluffed-up robins. There are probably 20 birds hopping from branch to branch and fluttering around before landing again. There are no birds in the left hand tree, even though they are only about 10 yards apart. Weird that. I don't know when the robins arrived. They were not here last week, now they are in the pear, in the willow, all around. It seems early for the birds to come back from their southern vacation. The rabbit has been out scavenging for food under the pear trees too. He left tracks everywhere.  It is a regular nature preserve there in the backyard. Today is an office day and I am on my second cup of coffee. The Keurig makes a nice cup of Caribou.  School is on a 2 hour delay this morning due to the cold. According to my phone it is currently -9. I can see the buses going down the street beyond the neighbor's back yard to the elementary school down the street. My youngest is coming home from college for a visit this weekend.  I have only seen him once for a few hours since he headed back to school December 26. I miss him. I am currently reading Jim Bouton's seminal baseball memoir Ball Four. Well, not at this moment. There is nothing like reading a best seller 40 years after it hit the charts. I hear the office phone ringing. I guess that means I need to head upstairs and see who it was. I will never get my ass up there in time to answer it.