Every morning Dan wakes up bright-and-early to listen to Chris Parker for the ever vital weather report. He is a fantastic morning person. Capable of conversation, simple math, and hand-eye coordination all before his morning espresso. I, on the other hand, am a fantastic morning ogre. Grumbling and shuffling, I try to be reasonable about the unreasonable hour and fail. I can hear my grandfather's voice, even known, singing "Here she come's Miss America!" to me as I would stumble down the stairs as a child. Age 6 I knew this was sarcasm.
Dan use to start my morning coffee and then lure me out of bed with it's aroma. Now, with Bela on the boat, I am up and cranky to walk the dog as my morning cup of coffee is still brewing. Then Bela and I have breakfast on our return. Well deserved as the Midgies/sandflies/no-seeum's/whateveryoucallthem's are out in force first thing in the morning. Sometimes we eat first then head to yoga up at the abandoned yacht club. The women there love Bela and welcome her. Regardless, every morning I have two slices of homemade bread and a hard boiled egg. Simple, filling, reassuring in a strange way.
This is the closest I have come, since high school, to a schedule. Between college and rotating shifts as a nurse, I have never known consistency in my adult life. You would think living abroad, on a boat, where you are always on the move would result in anything but consistency. However, once you take out all of the pressures of modern day life; work, the social scene, modern technology, TV and DVR; I find that I am settling into what is comfortable. A stability of body and mind.
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