Morning Composing with Sunlight & Glowing Support Makes Intellectual Work a Lil' Easier - a Day of Productivity

I worked from home yesterday. I began early, writing, because my brain is fresh and isn't gooey like it gets later in the day from meetings, newsfeeds, and distractions. Usually, when I set out to do this, I also respond to messages sent my way, sharing with others what I'm doing (if they ask) and an image of what this looks like. I don't always notice the items I have around my house, but when the light hits just right, I see things anew, like the two photos to the left of my working chair when I move indoors from the front porch for the winter. My heart grows lighter. 

There has been a pile of must-get-done items accumulating on my to-do list and with an afternoon cancellation yesterday, I found an unexpected period of time to simply get at it. So I did. Reviewing the work of others is always a positive experience, especially when I'm able to offer suggestion to make their projects better. I carry with me my own processes, and share what I've learned from others. We're all in this together. 

Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards are getting bare, but I made what I called a 'drunk drawer' soup with items left in the fridge: beans, chicken, broccoli, and pasta. I wanted the warm broth as the polar plunge is still dipping in the northeast...just a day or two more to go. 

Today, I have to bring materials to the campus office to ready for the MLK Youth Leadership Academy where I am honored to feature members of the women's basketball team for their excellence and advice to young people. It is the 14th time I've been able to host the occasion at Fairfield University. 

Karal hates when I'm out-of-home, but she'll get over it. As long as we get our walk in, all is okay with her (and it was a cold one yesterday). This morning's walk is likely to be the same...colder...so we may not be able to trek as far. Still, I hate the icier days when we cannot walk, so I'm thankful to any and all who shovel their sidewalks. For dog-movers like me, it is a blessing...the small things.