Morning Routine

I rise
Eyes puffy slits
Bladder bursting.

I shuffle
Or rather stagger
Toward the coffee maker.

The magic caffeine
Brings me alive
And I’m a puppy again.

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Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “morning routine.”

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “Morning Routine”

  1. Ali’s morning routine was just that—an exercise in quotidian tasks. It began with stretching before heading to the bathroom to perform her morning ablutions. Then heading downstairs, accompanied by her chocolate Lab, to prepare her coffee and whatever she would be having with it, let her dog out and provide him with his morning kibble. Once everything was ready, it was chow down time. This was always accompanied by classical music wafting from the kitchen radio as both enjoyed their morning meal.

  2. It’s 6.00am and my human is still asleep. Must wake her up by walking all over her.
    She locked me in the living room and went on sleeping! How disappointing.
    An hour later: the sweet taste of cat food at last! The human is back in bed. I show my appreciation by climbing on her chest and purring. She rubs my head and calls me a sweetlittleboy.

  3. Each morning she woke up to the crowing of the rambunctious rooster. She struggled out from under the blanket and quickly pulled on her jeans. Next, on went her cumbersome rubber heavy-duty farmyard shoes. And finally, a quick tug of her ancient stained hooded sweatshirt over her head down into her pants. It was time to get out and feed her family. The clucking chickens, “Mr. Red Rooster,” “Mama Llama,” and a half dozen hungry, bleating dwarf goats. Yee Gods!! This was the only part of her new mini-farm life that she wasn’t crazy about. As much as she loved them all, they were a noisy and demanding crew to feed before her first hot cup of aromatic delicious coffee each morning.

  4. Good Morning Lord. Thank you for a brand new day. The two gifts of my eyes have now been opened and I do not take for granted that I can see. My feet hit the floor and the thankfulness begins. Creek, creek, creek I go across the floor as the joints loosen up but I am thankful that I can indeed walk. Mornings have become increasingly something to truly look forward to since I began the adventure of consciously acknowledging in detail how far God has gone in order to make my day a reality.

  5. Morning dawns in the dark for me . One quick visit to the washroom to relieve oneself , then tip toe in the slumbering dark to the kids room , to check on them . Tuck in a runaway quilt here , switch off someone’s bathroom light , again . Palms are nodding with laughter , the leaves silvery from last nights’ rain . Two joggers are seen from the balcony, under the street lamp , stretching bravely in the morning chill , preparing for an hour long run on the wet road . The temple prayer cackles up , attempting to wake up the mortals and plead with the deity. Paddling back to the kitchen in socks , and keeping the saucepan on boil. Bathroom geysers switched on , tea and biscuits ready in three cups with saucers .

    One wakes up pronto , grabbling the teacup with unsteady hands , other pulls her quilt , covering her head. The sky grows lighter , with blush strokes of melon red gash against a light blue sky , torn through a thick blanket of dark clouds with rain still in them . A wet wind blows , whistling at the window . I take my cup to my bed , tuck my feet in , and take a long sip of the delicious hot fluid. Thank God for hot tea .

  6. Routine: the same thing over and over.
    Morning: the beginning of the day.
    How can morning be routine
    when each dawn brings possibility,
    a hope for hope, a promise of better things?

    I greet each day with the same routine:
    a look out the window to see what time it is
    for the little wren who wakes me
    moves her clock back minute by minute
    as the light comes earlier and earlier.
    Next is a walk to the door, out onto the porch
    no matter the weather because one must feel
    to know.

    The dogs will greet me,
    the cat will demand food.
    The birds will explode away from the feeders
    at my intrusion.
    I put on the kettle, turn on lights,
    call to my husband,
    in that order.
    The morning routing is complete.

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