First Thing

 

How do I start my day? I get up early, switch on the electric blanket, go downstairs, let the dogs out and make a cup of coffee. If there’s nothing much going on in the world, if nobody’s whining about not getting elected, and nobody’s getting impeached I return to my cosy bed with the coffee and read one or three of my books. I am usually accompanied by a dog and a cat who hate each other. They position themselves at opposite ends of the bed. Sometimes they glare at each other, other times they ignore each other.

It's a wonderful start to the day.

Achievements

I have been feeling rather flat this past week. First of all there was the post-Christmas slump, then there was a nuisance of a head cold and then there was the dank and gloomy weather. Even the antics of the pup were not sufficient to pull me from the doldrums.

At this particular time Bert has to be out of the house during office hours. He is on business that must be done and I am left alone with dogs, cats, pigs and Pearlie. I told myself I had to to pull myself together. So this morning, the first morning of Bert's absence I decided to list my achievements as the day progressed. I made this decision in bed so my first achievement was -

1. Get out of bed.

This was swiftly followed by -

2. Attend to Pearlie's morning needs.
3. Attend to the morning needs of hens, pigs and dogs. Cats do not have morning needs.
4. Get out of bed. (Because I returned there after meeting the morning needs of livestock and old ladies.)

By then I had four achievements and it wasn't even ten o'clock! I can tell you that this cheered me up so much that I didn't even bother counting any further achievements.

Onwards and upwards!

Getting It Wrong

Miss Hails had herself an unauthorised lie-in the other morning. She hasn't been the only one getting it a bit wrong at getting-up time. Take me for instance - I am not very good at getting myself to bed at a sensible hour. Most nights I'll say to Bert,

I really must get off to bed before midnight, tonight.

And most nights I bungle it. But last night I got it right. I was up those stairs at quarter to eleven, hot-water bottle under my arm, gardening magazine in my hand and a German Shepherd at my heels. Teeth brushed, alarm set, Bonnie settled with her squeaky toys and after thirty minutes with an old Guardian crossword then a self-hypnosis session (of which more later) I was turning out the light just before the witching hour.

I did feel good this morning. Leapt out of bed like a lilty at seven thirty sharp, quick wash, teeth brushed, layered on the thermals and the office duds, and I was just pulling on my boots when I thought to myself,

Bit dark this morning.

I looked at the clock. Only a quarter to bloody seven! What to do? Only one thing I could do really. Off with the boots and the office skirt and back into bed for another hour's kip. I'm going up early again tonight. It's only twenty to eleven. Night, night!