He could not make things possible, but she could make them holy . . . holy . . . .

6 to 7 a.m. is a pretty busy time around This Old Manse. I've usually been up for at least a couple of hours by then (sometimes more), but it's around the the time that The Kids are about to get up or are getting up, so it's time to make The Breakfasts, so it's also time to make The Lunches and, sometimes, to do The Dishes as well. (The latter of which is in part pure laziness on my part, I'll confess, but is also at least in part an attempt to consolidate water usage, so that I can do last night's load along with this morning's on one dishpan full of water. My 60th Year: Where Pragmatism Meets Indolence.) 

And there are times when I'm making pancakes or eggs or packing lunches and thinking, "Man, this is such a drag. I just want to read and drink more coffee!" Or watch CNN or whatever. But those times are actually few and far between.

Most of the time I'm thinking, "I'm really happy right now." I'm making meals which are reasonably nutritious for my two youngest children, and they're going to enjoy eating them.

The only thing that could make it better would be if I was making breakfast and / or lunch for Jimmy as well.

And that's a funny thing, in a way. When I was young, I don't think I would have ever imagined that one of the happiest parts of my day would be making meals for somebody else. 

Which is why I've come to think that at least so far as I am (or was) concerned, it's not so much that youth was wasted on the young me as that life was wasted on me. I was so busy searching for The Big Deal that I missed out on The Real Deal, the helix of semi-precious moments which is where happiness lies waiting. Beckoning. Lips picked up and EVERYthing.

So the thoughts (which have preoccupied me of late) that I could Go Back and Do a Better Job The Second Time are probably complete bullshit. I'm doing the best job that I can do now, and have, like everyone else, done the best job I could do from the start. 

There's something happy and there's something sad about that, of course.

But I did enjoy making those eggs and pancakes and packing those lunches this morning.