It's Saturday. I get up at 5:40 a.m. with Pierre the puppy, like usual. By 6:30, I'm ready for coffee, but husband is still sleeping and I like to drink coffee with him. I think about running, but read the paper instead, and get pigs ears for the dogs so they'll stop chasing each other and waking up the kids.
By 7:00 I'm ready for cereal, but alas, no milk. At 7:20 I start bugging husband to get up and join the day. He's so sleepy. I'm so mean. I know I should let him sleep in. Plus, still no milk. We can't have coffee without milk anyway.
So I decide to run to the store to get milk.
Distance wise, it's about what I usually run. Or walk. And the running down to the store is easy. Running home with a jug of milk uphill is hard. So I don't, I walk instead.
I walk through the woods since it seems more natural. I feel sort of like Ma Ingalls walking home from town, minus the sun bonnet. Except Ma had a cow at home, so she wouldn't have had to run down the hill for milk on Saturday morning, or walk back up.
But they had to eat that poor cow during the long winter, which was so sad. Pierre's just too little to eat. He'd barely make a bowl of soup.
I'm so lucky, really, to be able to run and walk for milk on a Saturday morning. And even luckier that I don't have to eat my pets when the weather turns harsh. So many things to be thankful for today...
I think I'll go drink my coffee now.