mountain living

This morning I awoke promptly at 8 AM, feeling a bit cold. We still had windows partially open from last night; the temperature had fallen to 50F outdoors. It was still 70F in the house, but we had an open window right behind our pillows and another on my side of the bed.

The windows in Rocko's room (formerly my office) were also open about six inches. It had cooled off enough in there that Rocko had moved into our room and was curled up next to Lisa's side of the bed.

Last fall, when we were making our trips up here from Florida, we bought a woolen army blanket for him at The Old Grouch's Military Surplus shop in Clyde, NC. It makes a great dog bed when folded into quarters, durable and warm. We currently have it on the floor next to Lisa's side of the bed so Rocko can be there for her when she needs him.

After I made the coffee, fed Rocko and listened to Morning Edition for a while, it was time to get the mail (our mail gets here at about 9 AM if the usual postwoman is on duty).

The morning was sunny, the grass was wet with dew. Birds were the only sound other than the faint roar of the river below us. I reflected on the great fortune I have to be living in a little cottage way up here in God's Country. Lots of people camp at the several campgrounds that we pass in our car when we go to town. We have the honor of experiencing this glorious country all day, every day, all year long.

And we've made it through another month, unless today throws something nasty at us. But I don't think that will happen.