Dec 27

At 4:45 AM my alarm goes off.  I sneak out of bed, turn on the coffee, and tip toe through a short workout.  The house groans.  I accidental kick the cat- twice.  I do side lunges over the sleeping dog.

At 5:35 AM without any alert from me her bed is empty and the light is on in her room.  The downy blankets puff like punched dough, fleshy and oozing.  The bathroom door is closed.  Watery light crawls out across the wood floor.

But the house is quiet.

At 6:00 AM BC is up carrying coffee, yawning, squinting.  The News begin to talk into the darkness.  Sharp voices and blue light breaking the day open.

Snow.
Coffee.
The smell of bagels toasting.
The front door opening and closing.  The scraping sound of the trash cans being drug to the curb.

Right before 7AM she appears upstairs; slippers, sweats, the straps of a leo hanging.  "My hair," she points to the lemon curls as she shuffles by.

BC stomping snow from his boots announces into the house he will be driving us.  The News and the snow both continue falling.

This is all for her.  This is the stuff not including on the order slips or on the monthly statements.  Two days after Christmas and we are headed into the gym for a 5 hour workout.  I will work the desk alone returning calls.  BC will drive us there and back.

We are team Beach... and she is ready to go.