Wake & bake....Blueberry pancakes on this blustery cold Sunday
morning early afternoon
![Red Eye :eyesmoke: :eyesmoke:](/styles/smilies/redeyesmoke.gif)
Then a little trimming...just a tad. Read this cool poem this morning...
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
Rumi, author, 800 years ago