Sunday, February 8, 2015

Life Goes On

My family is contriving to keep me awake.

I stayed up too late last night working.

After I finally slipped into slumber, my husband woke up.  He decided to work in the middle of the night, which usually doesn't wake me, but for some reason I heard every move he made while I was trying to sleep.

Then the crazy cats who used to sleep the night through with their humans, but are now confused decided that if one human is up, the other should be too.

One scratched at the door to get out, one scratched at the door to get in.  After getting up a half dozen times in a stupor, I finally gave up and left the door open.  Then one stood on my head (the heaviest one, I might add) and one tried to eat my blankets.

Finally I gave up.  I could see the sky was getting light and needed to let the hens out.  I wondered why my husband was being so quiet.  I found him blissfully asleep.

I got dressed and fed the cats.  I vowed I would keep waking them throughout the day.  Then I went to let the hens out into their yard.

We had finally established a routine, after the big upset last week, when my favorite hen was taken by a hawk.  But the trickster was having fun with me, and the easy task of getting my hens into their new better protected yard, turned into a chicken rodeo.  I came into the house, panting and wheezing.

It's no good going back to sleep.  I have a ton of work to do today.  So all I can do is sit here for a few moments with a cup of hot coffee (usually it's tepid, by the time I get around to it) and look at the magnificent sun rising through the trees, casting long shadows and chasing the mist away.  Watch the dew sparkle on the grass.  And dream of Tuesday, the nearest thing I have to a day off.

I can hear the birds singing.  Why shouldn't they sing?  It's a beautiful day and they got a full night of sleep.

I've decided I will run away from home.  Into my back yard.  I have dreams of building a tiny cottage out of pallets and then retreating there for a full night of rest every evening.  I wonder if I'll see them through.

Excuse me while I go wake the cats...