Thursday, January 08, 2004
Ah, new day and I am feeling so much better. I got a full nights sleep last night with minimal waking to nurse and let dogs in and out. I was even able to get back to sleep after the 3:30 feeding when my mind started spiraling down the "what I haven't done that I should" path.
Lately, I've been waking up in the middle of the night and my mind fixes on problems like a rabid dog and won't let go.
The other night it was the new washer I bought. Our washer started leaking (hey, when you can get 4 years use out of a $30 washer, I say go for it!) and I went and bought a new one. At 2AM I realized that a top of the line front loader was overkill and decided that I'd feel better if I returned it and did some more bargin shopping. Fine, that was decided--but my mind wouldn't let it go. I ended up getting up and crocheting for a couple hours before finally going back to sleep.
I'm up at 5AM today. When I can do it, I'm starting to love the early morning hours. It cracks me up to think of me as an "early riser" but here I am. I love the quiet of the pre-dawn, the promise of sunrise. I love the smell of early morning. Later in the day, you can't smell the season, but morning doesn't lie. In the fall, California smells so heavenly--the scent of going to rest, cleaning up for a new year, the promise of rain for water-starved soil and trees. Winter brings fog and fallen leaves, damp--snuggling in warm blankets against the chill that doesn't normally turn to true cold in the Central Valley. Rare mornings bring the sharp, dry sting of frost to my nose, a white spinkle glittering on the grass and roof tops to my eyes. Spring brings falls promise of renewal to life, you can smell the buds bursting, the soil warming and grass coming to life again. In the summer, you can guess the days temperature by scent, the cool air in your nose telling you of heat, hot and more heat to come later in the day, the too-blue sky can't hold night's cool against the coming sun.
¶ 6:09 AM
Lately, I've been waking up in the middle of the night and my mind fixes on problems like a rabid dog and won't let go.
The other night it was the new washer I bought. Our washer started leaking (hey, when you can get 4 years use out of a $30 washer, I say go for it!) and I went and bought a new one. At 2AM I realized that a top of the line front loader was overkill and decided that I'd feel better if I returned it and did some more bargin shopping. Fine, that was decided--but my mind wouldn't let it go. I ended up getting up and crocheting for a couple hours before finally going back to sleep.
I'm up at 5AM today. When I can do it, I'm starting to love the early morning hours. It cracks me up to think of me as an "early riser" but here I am. I love the quiet of the pre-dawn, the promise of sunrise. I love the smell of early morning. Later in the day, you can't smell the season, but morning doesn't lie. In the fall, California smells so heavenly--the scent of going to rest, cleaning up for a new year, the promise of rain for water-starved soil and trees. Winter brings fog and fallen leaves, damp--snuggling in warm blankets against the chill that doesn't normally turn to true cold in the Central Valley. Rare mornings bring the sharp, dry sting of frost to my nose, a white spinkle glittering on the grass and roof tops to my eyes. Spring brings falls promise of renewal to life, you can smell the buds bursting, the soil warming and grass coming to life again. In the summer, you can guess the days temperature by scent, the cool air in your nose telling you of heat, hot and more heat to come later in the day, the too-blue sky can't hold night's cool against the coming sun.
¶ 6:09 AM
