The Native Iowan

It was one of those morning… One of those mornings when you wake up feeling good. Real good… The temps were cold at 630am, 45f/ 9c. The heavy quilt was nice n warm, the sky showing through the bedroom window was powder blue, a cold powder blue. I snuggle in warmer and listen to the day… Dandy is in his kennel whining. I’ll need to let him out soon. The morning bird noise is noisy. There is a UFC show starting at 7am. “I shall go wrap up in my chair and watch it”, me thinks…

So up, and at them I go… first is put a heavy hoodie on and a pair of socks. The floors in this old house are cold. Head down the steps and greet Bella at the door, say good morning to the 3 bitch-pups in their kennels, let Dandy out of his straw filled lock-up.

On the way back into the house I think, “damn, I’m outta coffee”…

Last eve Gracie noticed my coffee container was empty. Yesterday when I made coffee I used the last, said out loud “need to buy coffee”, and that was that…

I tell myself I can do without. Maybe drink some of Gracie’s Nescafe? So I wrap up as the first bout starts at 7am.

That bout ended with a KO in the first round. I’m warm, hapi but thinking about a nice coffee. Blood sports and coffee go well together.

So up, I am, in my hoodie and pyjamas. Slip on a pair of crocks and hop in my old truck for the short drive to town.

The truck is frigid. I turn on the heater very high. The sky is blue ice. The green, green grass is layered with a fine coating of dew that looks like frost. It’s not, but it’s damn close. I am rarely out this time of day (in winter) and the low lying fog and the dew covered fields offer a phantasmagorical picture. Cold blue, frosty green is the colour of the morning. Cattle and horses motionless in their paddocks. No other cars on the road. A beautiful, crystal cold morning.

The town is pretty quiet. I see a few folks at the local coffee shop. A number of intrepid guys on their 2wheels are at the pie shop.

I park by the front door of the local Independent grocery store. Quickly grab a loaf of nice bread, a big pack of “Italian ground” coffee, a jug of milk. The young gal at the checkout is a smily blond that I assume is part of the family that owns the place. She is almost always on duty, always smiling and talkative… “How are you this morning”, she asks… I hold up the pack of ground coffee and say, “My morning sux, no coffee at home so I get to run to town”… “that does suck” is her reply.

The coffee was worth the trip. The warm cup keeps my fingers nice n hapi. The air in the big old house is chilly. The warm cup is good. I feel the caffeine doing its duty. Another first round KO in the ring.

Blood Sport and Coffee…

On another note… Ankle healing going very well. Spot on 6months post-op and all is good. So good I am getting foolish and young… or is it young and foolish…

Bought a new helmet. Going to get back on 2wheels soon… been too long…

More later