It’s Sunday morning. Cassie has woken me up early once again with her restless paws padding around me, on me. I don’t mind though – I kind of like being up early on weekends. With no one else around, it feels like stolen time.
I stay in bed, savouring the fog of sleep still clinging to my eyes and my thoughts. John is breathing deeply next to me, still in the depths of sleep. Outside, the rain suddenly picks up and a heavy sheet of water hits the windows; it is officially pouring now. There is a part of me that loves that sound and how completely it envelopes our cozy home, but I also know I’ll have to walk Cassie soon enough so I hope it slows down.
I lie there for a while longer, taking advantage of Cassie’s willingness to cuddle. She puts her warm little head on my stomach, so I settle in and dare not move a muscle because this is too adorable to disturb. I breathe in her lovely warm doggie breath and rub her favourite spot behind her ear.
By the time Cassie convinces me to get out of bed, the rain has stopped and the sun is periodically peeking from behind heavy clouds. We time our walk perfectly and catch the park right when it is glistening in the sun. It is a rainbow of green, every shade fully saturated. That is one benefit of living in a temperate rain forest – along with the rain you also get the forest.
When we get home, I decide to make pancakes and scrambled eggs for breakfast. John heads into the kitchen just in time to help me finish up and set the table. We eat at the breakfast nook by the window, so we can enjoy a few more glimpses of the sun before it hides behind the grey clouds, quite possibly for the rest of the day. A man walks by on the sidewalk and peeks in at us – I think he’s jealous of our pancakes, of our little nook. I finish my breakfast just in time to run to my laptop for my weekly Skype-date with my mom.
I could do without the fall and the eternal rain it brings, but I do cherish the return of my routine.