The Emma-dog wakes me up every morning by 5am. She does this low-volume*, yet pervasive “wuffing” that apparently only I can hear. Perhaps it’s a leftover from the early days of motherhood where one is hyper-alert to the tiniest sounds from babies and young children. I don’t know if it’s her age or a sudden aversion to peeing in her crate (she can’t be trusted. not ever) but these early morning wake-ups have been happening for several months now. It used to drive me mad, but then I realized I like being up early and besides, during the week, I have to be up early. I need never fear missing my alarm.
So down I go, bleary-eyed, to let her out of her crate. She goes skidding to the kitchen door and I let her out into the garden where she charges around at nonexistent invaders before tending to her bathroom needs. The kettle is switched on and dog food is dispensed into the bowl. I remember, belatedly, that I forgot to give her her monthly flea/tick/heartworm medication on Thursday (it’s on the calendar but…) so I ping that into the bowl as well.
I make my tea and sit with it, waking up slowly which is my very best favourite thing to do. It’s one of the reasons I love being awake early, before everyone else, that half hour of blissful solitude while I slowly sip.
It’s light enough now to let the chickens out. But first, I go out to the garage and scoop dry food into the bowl for the Garage Band — Lucy and Ethel are both in attendance…as are the two kittens (Lucy’s….Ethel is like a bowling ball, she can hardly climb up to the work bench for the dry food, I suspect she’ll have at least three)**. They manage to exude disappointment, they were probably hoping for wet food, but that comes in the evening. I fill up their water bowl and then fill up my little bird-seed container.
I fill the feeders first, then open up the coops. The Ladies dash out to avail themselves of the bird seed that “accidentally” spilled. I say ‘good morning’ and scuttle back indoors. The mosquitoes are in fine form this morning.
I make my second cup of tea and sit down at my desk. It’s more of a table, actually, the one by the window, which I use for everything but my fiction writing. (That has to be done at the other desk, the one without the direct window view. I’m easily distracted by Bird TV.) I write in my journal for a while….I realize I haven’t done so in almost a month….the last entry was on Father’s Day (June 16th). I don’t usually go so long between entries, but life has been full and I’m settling into some lovely rhythms with my work so there’s been little angst to be untangled on my journal pages.
As I write, I realize I have no ideas for a blog post today so decide to just get my camera and go for a wander outside.
I braved the blood-sucking hordes to bring you these photos….which is an approximate tour of the path from the house to the pond-side path…..it’s about 6:30am in the pictures. Lovely, wot?
I had the delightful experience of an Old Tyme Blogging flashback this week — you know, from when blogging was a far different beast than it mostly is now, which is to say slick and markety and magazine-y. The lovely Lesley of Wisteria and Sunshine, is refreshing her old bloggy space and a dear friend (I hope she doesn’t mind me calling her that) - Jacqui, whose old blog The Barefoot Crofter was one of my very best favourites, is also blogging in a new space - Her Infinite Variety. It was so very lovely to lose a half hour or so reading through the posts that I’d missed. It was like the olden days of stumbling upon a kindred spirit and being able to fill up on all of the goodness that lived in their bloggy spaces.
And so that got me thinking of what I wish for this space to be…because I’ve grimly held onto it despite being pulled in eleventy billion directions that tell me blogging is dead or if you are going to blog then you Should Do It Like This.
I can make arguments on either side for giving up/keeping on. All of them very convincing.
But the bottom line is that I simply love to blog. I love writing here…in whatever rambly and not-organized-enough way that I do. I love taking my camera for a walk and sharing the things I find. It’s my own visual/digital chronicle. It contains my multitudes. In fact, the great gaps in my blogging have usually come from resisting my natural flow in favour of Doing It Properly.
Because it occurs to me that this blog is my online home. Despite a (very experimental) return to Instagram, and my favourite blogs (which are few, only because hardly anyone is blogging anymore)..and the gorgeous oasis of delight that is Wisteria and Sunshine this is really the only place I’m happy to “be” on the internet. And in the same way I wouldn’t tolerate some random “expert” telling me how I should keep my actual home — and tell me how I should decorate and what things I should have and how often I should entertain etc. etc. — nor will I tolerate someone else’s Rules governing my online home.
Which is mostly just me, thinking out loud.
So thank you…for visiting, for reading, for leaving a comment….it means a lot. It really does.
*if ignored, which I’ve attempted to do, the volume will steadily increase…along with my blood pressure. And yet still, only I can hear her…?
**efforts are still ongoing to trap/neuter/return the Garage Band….highway construction en route to the animal shelter has halted progress but we’re hoping to resume shortly. This whole thing gives me all manner of stress, the whole thing is so conflicting, but we’re doing the best we can and at least they’re not left to starve.