A ringing phone woke me up at 5:30 this morning. I stumbled around for a few seconds, not sure if it was my cell phone, or my house phone doing the ringing. It was Allan, the ever faithful night auditor calling to tell me that he couldn't connect to one of the servers on the network thus preventing him from updating our key numbers. I pulled on my favourite pair of track pants and my new John Deere shirt and ambled down the stairs to gather my keys. As I jumped in my truck, I turned my wipers on to remove the dew from my windshield, thinking that in my sleepy state I'd have to watch for deer crossing the road on my short trip to the spa. 4 weeks and 4 days ago my good friend and I/T superstar turned in his keys and said he was done. Done with these early morning calls, done with the emails and voicemails complaining about lost connections, sticking keyboards, missing messages, done with me trying to grow him into more responsibility as a property manager. He was suffering from all the classic signs of burnout. I've seen it before when someone who works tirelessly behind the scenes to provide hours of reliable service just gets fed up with hearing about all the things that aren't working, and never hearing about the millions of things that are working. I'm hoping that he'll be back soon, but I'm also thankful for the gifts that his absence has brought me. I've been forced to relearn skills that I'd long since forgotten, simple things like resetting a password, deleting a voicemail box, troubleshooting technology, but more importantly I've learned to appreciate the value of one of the many people who make a place like Ste. Anne's function day in and day out. Allan the night auditor, Jane the morning waitress, Debbie the gardener, Steve the mechanic, Tyson the morning chef, and this morning I was treated to a breathtakingly beautiful sunrise and the opportunity to reflect on the mystery of morning, so dependable day in and day out. Who would we call if the sun didn't come up one day?