broken ankle

Black treble clef and two musical notes on a transparent background

They say that waking up is hard to do. Now I know, I know that it’s true. Don’t say that this is the end. Instead of waking up, I wish that we were faking up again…

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026
November 11, 2026

Hi, folks!

_{^{Steve and Ben at Christina’s Wildberry Diner on Main Street in Mesa, Arizona!}}

At my doctor’s appointment today, he took me out of my cast and put me into a simple ankle bracelet. Not the kind that beeps and prevents you from leaving certain ZIP codes. This one lets me go wherever I please. It is a compression type sleeve which hold itself in place with a stretchy type material secured by a velcro strip. Something our dog Otis, finds interestingly toy like.

Long story short. I can go anywhere I want. With a cane. Excluding hiking trails. Golf courses. Shooting ranges. And, any places where I could suddenly go airborne when not accompanied by an adult.

Mostly. With a cane. I can take a leash. As long as Otis isn’t on the other end of it. But the really great news is…I’m officially off the knee scooter and using an ankle brace.

As I’ve been telling people, the doctor said he’d never seen a bone heal so beautifully. Magnificent healing. Possibly the finest healing in medical history. He wished he could break his own leg and ankle just to experience results like mine. Nobody else could have done it. Okay, maybe one other person.

My dry humor, unfortunately, appears to be a permanent condition.

That’s the news I’m going with this morning. If you’re somewhere in Mississippi crying into your beer over the election, pull up a chair. We serve coffee here, but you’re welcome to bring your troubles.

If you’ve spent the past week hiding out like that Cindy Brady kid dodging a family meeting, you may have missed a few things. And if your name is Smith and nobody can find you, somebody please let us know you’re all right. Finishing second can sting, especially when you’ve already written your victory speech.

Take a seat. We’ll get through the morning. I can’t promise you’ll like the news, but I can offer you a refill. With that said. This mornings greetings and instructions are over. Have a nice day!

Pour a cup, folks. Today’s Morning Coffee is about what happens when life makes you sit down while the world keeps moving. What is one small thing that made you smile recently?

By Benjamin Groff II GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2026
October 17, 2026

Apparently, the world does not stop just because you break your leg. I find that inconsiderate.

Good morning, coffee drinkers! Pull up a chair. I already have mine, and lately we have become inseparable.

A close-up of a person's bandaged foot resting on a couch with a plate of food, including fried plantains, coleslaw, and chicken, in the foreground. — _{^{Steve made dinner Monday evening using a recipe he found online. I never use recipes, but I have to admit—his turned out delightful. He’s been doing the cooking ever since I broke my ankle and leg. I’ve been supervising from my chair and offering helpful instructions.
He hasn’t been listening. Apparently, dinner is coming along just fine anyway.}}

With a cast on my leg, I have had plenty of time to observe life from a seated position. My television provides the entertainment. My MacBook provides the distractions. My phone provides distractions from those distractions.

Then my Apple Watch tells when me to stand. Sometimes, I even pay attention to it.

There ought to be a button that says, “Please discuss this with my surgeon.”

Meanwhile, Otis, our Jack Russell Terrier, continues racing through the house as though someone has announced that squirrels are taking over the government. Steve keeps things moving, and I supervise from my chair—a position for which I have discovered considerable natural talent.

But somewhere between the television, the notifications, and watching Otis break the household land-speed record, a thought occurred to me.

How much of our lives do we spend feeling behind?

A cozy living room scene featuring a dog resting on a recliner covered with a patterned blanket, surrounded by home decor and a cooling unit. — ^{_{Otis Guarding The House}}

Behind on the bills. Behind on the housework. Behind on returning messages. Behind on whatever we meant to accomplish before lunch, before Friday, or before we turned a certain age.

Even sitting still can feel like something we ought to be doing more efficiently.

Watch a movie? Certainly. But answer three messages, check the news, and figure out dinner while you are at it.

By the time the credits roll, we need someone to explain the movie we just watched.

I suspect some of you know exactly what I mean.

Somewhere today, somebody is drinking coffee before a shift they would rather not work. Somebody is caring for a person they love. Somebody is looking at an empty chair. Somebody is starting over, quietly, without an audience to applaud the effort.

And somebody is simply trying to get through their version of a Monday. Without saying something that requires an apology on a Tuesday. Or a Wednesday, or a Thursday. Or whatever day of the week it may be.

There is room for all of you at this table.

You do not need an impressive story to belong here. Tell me about the dog who stole your breakfast. The person you miss. The song that took you back forty years before your coffee had time to cool.

Those are the things I enjoy hearing. They give us something to recognize in one another.

My broken leg has certainly rearranged my days. I would have preferred a less dramatic reason to sit down. But since I am here, I might as well pay attention.

There is coffee to enjoy. There are old movies to revisit. There is Steve to talk with and Otis to watch—preferably before he launches himself across the furniture.