Shhhh, do you hear that? Silence. Even the birds aren't up yet.
I know, I'm not the only one who gets up while it's still dark out to enjoy the first steaming cup of morning coffee.
It's been a while since I've outwitted this bunch. Seriously. It's not unheard of for my foot to hit the last step only to discover dear hubby already at the table waiting....
Today, that's just what I've done. : )
I don't want to waste a precious minute. I'm gonna get right to it. Dottie has found herself in the kitchen of an old farmhouse still equipped with a wood cookstove and tin percolator. No simple press of the button here; just a box of kindling and a stack of faded newspapers. She remembers her grandmother whipping up some of the most memorable breakfasts ever on a stove just like this one.
Breakfast began with building a fire in
the kitchen stove, which looked like it had once belonged to Caroline when she lived on the Prairie. A huge black iron stove was centered along the back wall. It contained several round lids of different sizes, which she knew were the burners. A basket of kindling was kept underneath a table nearby. Certain she could handle making coffee, Dot removed
the largest steel burner plate using a lid lifter already in place. Next, she crumpled a few newspapers, stuffed them into the stove, and placed some of the kindling from the basket. It required several matches until she
had a rosy fire.
She sat down to wait, her gaze going to the glass.
The thick sheen covering the window wasn't dust but soot.
Instead of offering a fresh start to a new day, it
resembled a sad leftover from days before, struggling to
break through. Footsteps from the stairway alerted her that she
wasn't the only one up.
"Why are you using that old thing?"
Nothing much is happening yet. I'd better get back to it before my house starts to wake up.
Here's to a lovely day!
