Damn, is it Cold Out.

Kate and I have a morning routine.

I’m always the first one up, usually an hour or so before Kate. I’ll make my coffee, do the morning check of the internet, play my guitar for a while. I typically have an idea when she’ll be getting up and I get her coffee ready for her. (I like thick strong dark roast; she likes hazelnut in the morning)

Clifford, who has taken my place in bed, will come bounding down the stairs while the Keurig is doing its thing with Kate’s hazelnut. I let her out and by the time the coffee is ready, she’s back, patiently waiting for me at the slider.

At this point, I’ll turn the fire up (we’ve got a propane fireplace that’s the main heat source for Casa Da Sam and Kate) a little bit. We like the house more on the cool side than the walk around in shorts and flip flops all the time side.

We’re each rockers in the Led Zeppelin / Nirvana / Van Halen / Rolling Stones neighborhood; a decidedly Gen X area. Sometimes we’ll listen to a “radio station” on Apple Music, sometimes an album.

Are albums a lost art form? Today we’re listening to “Jagged Little Pill” by Alanis Morisette start to finish. We’re each singing along with all the songs.

It’s always neat to talk about our memories of music and the stage of life we were in when we first heard an album. In the “Jagged” case, we both remember it coming out, both remember listening to it while we were in the same stage of life. Young families, crossing over from our 20’s to our 30’s. Her memories are literally down the street from where we are now, mine are in a war torn country half a world away.

She remembers having it cranked while she was off and the kids at school, smoking a joint and cleaning the house. I can see clear as a bell me being in Bosnia, laying in my fart sack (sleeping bag), sharing my pillow with a Baretta 9mm, and it on my headphones. It’s part the fabric of our lives that we share now. It’s adding another layer to the memory of the music, sharing it with each other all these years and miles after it was released.

Kate has to be to work in an hour. Clifford and Chow Hound Cat (and Chow Hound’s 3 feline cousins….yes, we’re borderline crazy cat people) are impatiently waiting for their breakfasts.

Clifford is a lover for sure, she loves everyone unequivocally. In the event of the zombie apocalypse there will be survivors, and there will be food. Cliff, being overjoyed to see them, will run to greet the first zombie and rapidly become food.

She draws the line with Chow Hound. When it’s food time, Clifford, having been burned by Chow Hound’s nefarious ways, takes a defensive posture. The sole time in 4 ½ years I’ve seen Cliff be anything close to aggressive is when guarding her bowl from Chow Hound.

Kate, dressed for the day now, is doing her thing, bouncing from room to room; singing along to the secret song at the end of Jagged.

Bush’s “Sixteen Stone” is up next. Another sing along album for each of us.

Time for me to get moving. Given it’s hunting season now and where Clifford and I walk is in state game lands, our excursions have been limited. This morning we’re gonna brave the coldest morning of the season so far (15f, -9c) and go to the park in town so she can run for a little bit.

Kate and I are on BlueSky now as Sam and Kate.

Thanks for reading, be kind to yourself and others!!

Sam & Kate

PS….If you’ve made it this far, please take a moment and clap (once, or up to 50 times) for this post. It’s feedback for Kate and me, (comments and highlites are always welcome too!) and helps push the story up algorithmically. Thanks!!!