See Flowers Instead

I woke up early, as I usually do. There was a welcome blanket of white snow over the ground and on trees and roofs outside. I saw it as I quietly shut the door to the room wherein J was snoring (he wouldn’t call it that; this is a regular argument neither of us has yet to win. He’s probably right, but don’t tell him I said that). On the floor in the room were my 9- and 5-year-olds who were lucky that Dad fell asleep first last night (Mom did not move them to their own beds, but Dad certainly would have). And Max (our old, blind Terrier), who was (decidedly) snoring.

A mist in the air cast a magic over everything. I keep Peppermint coffee creamer for just these kinds of mornings. I whispered to my house to please turn on the Christmas lights (yes, I say ‘please’ to Alexa…), and on they went. I nestled into the loveseat to begin my morning routine. Before my meditation, I perused my daily briefing of the New York Times.

I then went down a rabbit hole which led me — as rabbit hole’s do — to Donald Trump’s Twitter feed. And since I was already there, I did the thing one does when in a rabbit hole: I read the comments.

People. Humans, apparently. All sorts of humans were making statements. And as easy as sorting laundry you could have put these statements into two baskets. I hate you or I love you. Division.