Wake Up!

For almost a decade I woke up at four a.m. so that I could get to work on time. On the weekends I liked to sleep in. This worked great until I adopted my sweet baby boy, Tyler. Once he got used to waking up at a certain time, I wasn’t allowed to sleep in. Even on weekends he would bop me on the forehead until I woke up. Through narrowly cracked eyes, I glimpsed his smile.

Tyler Watching The World Go By
Watching The World Go By Jillian Pearl Copyright 2006 All rights reserved.

Instead of getting upset, I’d drag myself out of bed. With my eyes closed, I’d feed him and make coffee for myself. Once I had poured a cup of coffee he’d tell me it was time to go outside and greet the morning. During the summer he sprawled in his own chair and enjoyed witnessing the world wake up. When it got cold, he wanted to share body heat and snuggle under a heavy blanket.

The following is a post that Tyler dictated for his blog, Tyler’s Tails.

Wake Up! by Tyler

A few years ago Mommy and I lived in an apartment that had a wonderful deck that overlooked a lake. I spent endless hours people and animal watching from my chair. On the weekends, I always made sure I invited Mommy to join me. I liked watching the world wake up with her.

One crisp fall morning, Mommy and I were on the deck cuddling under a big warm quilt. It was so early the stars winked at us. Although, I don’t think Mommy noticed because she kept dozing off and was in danger of spilling her coffee!

A faint sound echoed across the lake. I must have fallen asleep because my ears perked up and my nose began to sniff even before my eyes cracked open. What was that? I wondered, peeking at Mommy. Had she heard it too? Continue reading “Wake Up!”


Look what I woke up to Friday morning!

I’m listening to Christmas music until it melts. The coffee tastes better than normal and I’m looking forward to Cream of Wheat for breakfast. Funny what a little snow does to you 😉

What would you do if it snowed where you are today?

What I woke up to Friday morning!
Copyright 2016 Jillian Pearl

Coffee And Spiders

It’s early Saturday morning. 5 a.m. to be precise. The basement is dark, the glow of the night-lights gives just enough light for me to see where Molly’s toys litter the floor. I stumble to the laptop, fire it up and go to brush my teeth.

When that’s done I carefully wind my way past the squeak toys and sit in my desk chair. An IM message from Nikki is blinking at me. She lives halfway around the world from me, but because of NaNoWriMo and the internet, I now call her my good friend. After a quick good morning, I take the coffee pot to get water. I’m tired. The number of times I splash water over the coffee pot and on my hands proves it. Slowly and carefully I carry it back downstairs, attempting to not spill any in my foggy state of mind. Coffee is a must. I simply can’t write until I have at least one cup.

The coffee pot brews noisily as Nikki and I chat and I try to wake up. After a short eternity, the coffee is ready. I pour a dollop of creamer into the cup and add a spoonful of sugar. Yawning, I pick up the cup and the coffee pot. The amazing smell forces my eyelids open a little wider. I imagine taking my first sip and start pouring when I see it…

Continue reading “Coffee And Spiders”

Baking With Mom

It had been a month. But, my heart cried out that it was only yesterday. Raindrops covered the window and slowly trickled down. This morning the weatherman had predicted rain changing to snow this evening. I hope so, I feel as if the world is crying with me and I don’t think I have many more tears. Mom loved snow.

Coffee Pot Percolator via Photopin
photo credit: coffee-pot-percolator.jpg via photopin

I scooped coffee into the chamber and assembled the old blue speckled percolator. I set it on the stove and turned to face my sister, Jenny. She worked up a small smile and sat down at the table. “It’s hard to believe Mom’s gone,” Jenny said. “I miss her so much.”

I gave her a hug. “We will get through this, I know we will,” I whispered. Grabbing a kleenex from the box on the table, I lowered myself into the other chair.

The percolator began perking. The sound immediately took me back to our childhood home in Oregon. On rainy afternoons Mom would put Postum in the percolator so that my sister and I could enjoy it with her. While we ate our breakfast before school each morning the smell and sound of percolating coffee would waft around the kitchen. Mom would fidget in her chair, waiting impatiently for the coffee to finish. She jokingly said it was the only way she could keep up with us.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“A little, but nothing sounds good,” Jenny responded.

“I dreamed of Mom’s homemade bread last night. I could smell it and taste it,” I sighed, vividly remembering the dream. Continue reading “Baking With Mom”