Four days of getting out of bed before seven does not make a habit, especially when I spent the majority of fifty-seven years avoiding early mornings unless I was staying up all night.
Yesterday I could feel the momentum start to slip away, getting up just barely before eight felt like a set back. Even though I had to get up twice in the middle of the night to pee, not usual for me, isn’t a good excuse.
Today’s chilly morning greeted me, but circumstances caused my mind and my heart and my body to get into an argument as to whether I ought to get up or not. It was day light. The neighbor’s rooster and chickens were greeting the morning. Lots of gardening to be done. But, I had a Ying Cat curled up around me on one side, a Ricky Dog wanting belly rubs, our morning ritual, and Abby’s intense laser-like stare, telling me it is breakfast time.
I didn’t want to get up. I even closed my eyes to shut out the day and pretend it was still dark out. Didn’t help that my back started to complain. I hadn’t even given my knee a chance to chime in.
I finally pushed through and got up to Ying’s dismay. I hadn’t looked at the clock to know whether I was “late” or not, and I was happy to see that it was only 6:45.
Automatic routines haven’t settled. I have to tell me myself each step, except for pee, dress, make coffee and feed the dogs.
Before knee exercises, I walked around to loosen my back. At least with the list of a dozen or so exercises, I can take advantage of sitting. Constantly working on range of motion. Just sliding my heel to get my knee to bend is a test.
It took some work just to get myself onto the ground. Sometimes I don’t remember to take my glasses off and they end up with dog slobber on them. My reward for doing my straight leg raises and my Prone Hip Extensions.
This routine is helping me become better at giving the dogs their pills as well as take my own.
Even with my sloth-like moving this morning, I was still moving in the right direction and the garden greeted me with such a sweet smile of sunshine. I have fallen in love with morning sounds. Peeps of Wild Turkey chicks looking for their Pea Mom. I’m thinking that the Tom is long gone, having no more use of Pea or Chicks, but I don’t really know. I never see them in the yard.
The task at hand in the garden immediately overwhelmed me. Think small. Thing manageable. Think don’t over do it.
I couldn’t bear to dig up all of the mint, though I know it will never go away; the root system is too intricate for my pick axe. Also gave me a reason to stop and take a picture, not that I need much of an excuse to take pictures.
Work. Take a picture. Work some more. And then stop and share my pictures and write. This is a routine I could live with.