Morning ritual | The Direction of Intention

Better Than Nectar [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Posted on March 2, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

My dad used to call coffee “the nectar of the gods.” Kerri and I feel the same way about a good strong cup of black java. There’s nothing better. The smell of fresh coffee brewing is hard to top. We giggle each night in anticipation of the coffee we will sip the next morning.

So, on those rare mornings that the coffee is brewed, the scent fills the house with rich warm delight, I bring the “errand of mercy” to my sleeping wife and announce the arrival of the nectar…and she doesn’t open her eyes…

It has been THAT kind of a week. There’s always more coffee to make, but sleep, real deep rejuvenating sleep, now that is hard to come by. Better than nectar. A welcome gift from the gods.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SLEEP

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buymeacoffee is, apparently, a gift you deliver to artists straight from the gods. get to it!;-)

Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: aarp, anticipation, artistry, cartoon about middle age, coffee, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, gift, java, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, mercy, middle age romance, Morning ritual, nectar, rest, second chances, sleep, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists | 1 Comment »

Will It To Happen [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on September 4, 2018 by davidrobinsoncreative

bcat summer with frame copy

This is the first face, the first thing I see each morning when I open my eyes. BabyCat, aka Sumo aka ONEBIGCAT aka Scrawny Cat. Let’s just say that he is a substantial kitty. And willful when hungry. The morning ritual goes like this (my eyes are closed): he mews up a storm with no result (eyes are still closed). He pulls books from shelves and then claws the back of the already-destroyed-chair (eyes still closed). He shreds the previous night’s crossword puzzle and any other loose paper on the floor. No movement from the human. The final stage is a cat-leap onto the bed (BabyCat landing on the bed feels like riding a rolling ocean wave in a small dinghy). And then he stares at me like some 19th century hypnotist, willing my eyes to open. No matter how long it takes. None of the ruckus produces results but the silent stare is a killer. It’s unnerving. It makes me open my eyes.

This morning the thunder and rain are at it again. The air is thick, sticky and humid. Wisconsin has gone tropical and, apparently, now has a monsoon season. When my eyes popped open this morning there was something extra in BabyCat’s stare. More than food, he wanted to know where summer had gone. Was it here at all or was is merely a B-Cat dream? A passing fancy?

Blinking my eyes, the best that I could offer was this: “I don’t know, BabyCat. I dreamed it was summer, too.” And then we finished the morning ritual with our customary promenade to the food bowl.

(the BabyCat coasters kill me! the travel mug is downright unnerving!)