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Personal Note:

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Poem

It is morning, my coffee and I sit alongside my grandson. He is still fast asleep, my guest bedroom never used by him. He loves to sleep out in the open and watch Netflix before he shuts his eyes.

It is morning, and I have the morning show on low, hardly paying attention, looking up occasionally. I’m more consumed by the poetry I read.

It is morning, fresh and new. I’m dressed already, ready to prepare pancakes when my buddy wakes up.

More coffee sips, smooth with cream. It is nice and quiet. Soon my grandson will be munching pancakes, sipping milk and waving “his gorilla arms.” Those who have kids know all about “Gorilla Tag,” though “monkey…” slips more from, at least my kid’s lips. 

And we will possibly play “Monopoly Knockout,” a new Monopoly game. Oh, this one I love. A shorter game, with wheels on the tokens. You roll all your tokens across the Go line, land on various spots (yes, you can still go to jail). The next player goes and may knock you into an undesirable space or off the board. You strike gold when you land on Free Parking. At the end of each round, you get your money. That is a taste of this fun game.

Pondering going to a garden, but that is a fleeting thought. Might go “somewhere.” My sciatica has been tamped down with an epidural. I have not been able to bring my grandson anywhere because it hurt so much to walk.

Regardless, I'm so happy to have him here today! Hip hip hooray!

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