I awoke as usual this morning, at O'Dark Thirty. Given this is the 'Christmas Break' for school, and knowing my biggest hurdle of the day was an afternoon appointment, I allowed the warm covers to lure me back into their comfort, and I own a Garand.
This half sleep, half waking luxury lasted till the windows began their gentle glow as the sun rose. Normally I see the glow from behind my windshield as I drive to work, as I am unwilling to give up that quiet hour before students arrive, and I own a Garand.
No, this morning was a special one, as I managed to sleep in so peacefully. During one of the barely lucid periods where one surfaces from sleep just enough to be aware of surroundings, I heard the oil furnace kick on. The hot water pipes give a delightful tink-tink-ping when this happens, and I own a Garand.
Laying there, the thought came that I seldom heard the furnace on in the morning after a night of running the wood stove. The old beast usually managed to keep the house warm all night, another of life's luxuries to be savored, and I own a Garand.
All too soon, my brain recalled that oil furnaces burn... oil. Expensive oil, and I have almost three cords of good wood stacked in the driveway. Brain realized I could stop the furnace from coming on simply by loading up the wood stove and getting it roaring again on this twenty degree morning (OMG, I own a GARAND?)
This was the thought that overpowered the deep comfort and warmth of my bed this morning, and wedged my chubby butt up enough to stagger down the stairs. Taking things in order of importance, a morning ritual, stoke the stove with some care, and then grind the beans for blessed coffee, and my GARAND is laying RIGHT THERE!
Did I mention I own a Garand now?