Every morning after CR leaves for work, I putter around my conservatory corner, plucking dry leaves, picking up the begonias that litter the (white) carpet, sweeping up the tiny, tiny seeds scattered by the papery blossoms on the Swedish ivy. There is nothing particularly exotic here, just ordinary 
houseplants, but I think it should be noted that I have ferns that are older than my children (Ian once gave him a big haircut and he survived just fine). There is a coleus descended from cuttings I took from a plant that grew at a restaurant I worked in college. I took care of the plants that hung around the skylights, and I loved the transition of coming in from school, hectic and tired and stressed, then going to check the plants before the rush started. Watering them. Making sure everybody was okay. It grounded me.
It still does. I give the cyclamen a drink of water and peer into the greeny darkness of the pot to see if there are any buds coming up (there might be, finally!). The begonias are blooming. The rex got cold or something and isn’t thriving. Not sure why. I poke my finger into the soil. Admire the sunlight coming through the east window. It’s quiet. The plants are breathing out fresh oxygen, stretching into the morning. I’d like, someday, to have a conservatory or a greenhouse. It would be relaxing.
When I’m done, after three or ten or twenty minutes, I’m ready to pour a fresh cup of coffee and take it upstairs and get to work.
What do you do to start your day?
I’ve always been a morning person. For whatever reason, my Great Internal Fear is that I’ll miss the world waking up and so, I generally jump out of bed (even on the weekends) quite early. Sometimes, I’m up by 5:30 or 6:00. I like to listen to the birds squawking and calling to one another. There’s the reassuring sound of my next door neighbor’s pickup door slamming shut as he settles himself in the cab and sticks the key in the ignition. I’m also a great sky watcher. I could spend hours doing it. Early morning, it starts out deep blue with a little lilac thrown in and then when it begins to lighten, it’s pink and yellow and apricot and light blue, all streaks and blotches. I grind my coffee beans (which flavor today – something dreamy, like chocolate velvet or something bistro, like Kansas City Breakfast Brew – which, I wonder?), feed it into my machine and wait. I let my lab outside so she can relieve herself and check out the yard. Hopefully, nothing’s changed our there since last night but if it has, she’ll know it. I stick my head outside too, just to clear the cobwebs. Every day is a new day and I remind myself to cherish every one. I pour myself a cup of whatever potion I’ve decided on today and go back to watching the sky. It’s pale blue now with just a wisp of clouds. Gonna be a good day…
Lovely, Yvonne.
I make a cup of tea and read your blog;-)