Without the buzzing of an alarm, I woke up this morning.
Actually, I woke up to what I thought was the sound of my husband walking through the door.
I was certain this is what woke me.
He's been gone all weekend you see, hunting. 

(I don't know why but I find his going hunting terribly amusing. 
Maybe because it's such a rare occurrence, like maybe once a year. 
Or maybe because my dad and brothers weren't really the hunting sort. 
But I sort of love that he goes hunting. 
I feel like he is being such a man when he gears up for a hunting trip with his buddies. 
In a really stereotypical, cute, and amusing way. 
And before he left I couldn't stop acting like a doting wife, between giggles of course. 
And waving goodbye as he walked away, carrying those big guns, well, it just made me laugh. 
This annoys him, I am pretty sure.
But he indulges me. 
What is it about it exactly? I'm not sure. 
But to me it is equal parts funny and adorable.)

This all has nothing to do with my point. 
Which was that this morning I was certain he was home. 
He, after all, woke me up.
But turns out it must have been a dream. 
Or my imagination, because there was no husband in sight.
Even so, it was a dreamy way to wake up. 
Made even dreamier as I collected all things associated with my morning ritual and promptly crawled right back into bed. It was there that I read scriptures, made my daily list, and checked my email.
All while being snuggled under the still warm blankets resting atop a pillowy cloud. 

(this pillowy cloud has everything to do with the new memory foam mattress pad my sister gifted us for christmas)

It was such an indulgence.
To be alone, in bed, staying snug and warm. 
And then remembering it was a holiday, which made me feel completely justified.
So there was no guilt associated with this morning's idleness. 
And leaning back on 3 overstuffed pillows provided me with the most perfect view of our mountain.
I recently turned our bed northward to capitalize on this view.
It sometimes reminds me of morla from the never-ending story, but not in a depressing way.
It a beautiful little mountain, and this morning it was dusted lightly with snow.



 
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