All in a day’s work.

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A long, slow, deep, melancholic blast of a foghorn called me forth from slumber into a dense, end-of-summer mist this morning. Last night’s Harvest moon was gone, and by the time I had completed my ablutions the sun had burnt off the mist, and the joy of early sunshine persuaded me to enjoy my mug of wife-brewed coffee and wife-baked treacle scone seated at the wrought iron cafe table in the back garden. A passing idyl it was of course, because the grocery shopping had to be done, bins wheeled out to the road, laundry loaded into the washing machine, Wordle, Worldle and Spelling Bee to be completed and some light clothing purchased for my impending trip to Greece. But those moments of foghorn, mist and melancholy were just what I needed to set me up for a day busy with domesticity. What sets you up for a busy day?