4 A.M.

I don't know why, but lately, regardless of what time I go to bed, my eyes flutter open at 4 A.M. The quiet morning is a gift. Still dressed in jammies, I usually read email, get on the treadmill, (not today though), do a bit of writing, and then head off to the kitchen to assemble school lunches before waking the girls and heading into the shower.

When I got up this morning I walked into a kitchen where a Christmas prep food bomb had gone off, yesterday. I have Christmas dinner almost under control. Most of the side dishes can be prepared entirely or to a point before the big day. Thus, relieving some of the stress and clean up mess. I love to cook when I'm not under pressure. I'm not so good a pulling a supper out of my refrigerator, or my hat for that matter.

So, in the quiet, I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, washed down the counters and sink, and took note that the stove top needs some attention. And after this bit of typing I'll wash the kitchen floor.

Despite the fact I grimace when I see the bright and shiny 4:00, and wonder how my clock got set an hour early, I'll take it. It's not everyone who gets an hour or two or three of quiet to themselves.