My morning starts with the sound of the ceramic dog-bone jar by the coffee maker. It is a hollow, familiar rattle that tells me the day has begun. I reach for the notebook with the frayed edges that lives on the counter corner, tucked just behind the toaster.
For a long time, I evaluated the quality of a walk by the distance we covered or the number of new paths we cleared. I kept a tally of our pace in the small notebook that sits by the ceramic dog-bone jar by the coffee maker.
