How a Non-Morning Person Tackles a VERY Early Morning

February 25, 2019 11:00 AM

I’m not a morning person. I never have been. At times, I’ve found that having dogs can collide with my natural inclination to sleep-in past, say, dawn. That was not the case this morning. This morning I got woke up before dawn. Several hours before dawn, actually, and it wasn’t even the dogs’ fault this time.

This morning at 4:42 AM, I woke up to Herbie, one of our cats, hoarking up a mondo hairball at the end of our bed. He not only woke up me, but he also woke up the dogs, who really didn’t appreciate getting up that early, either. I don’t think Herbie cared about the dirty looks that any of us gave him, though. He just proceeded to defile the end of the bed, jumped down and started to groom himself so that he has enough ammunition for the next hairball, which is due in about four days, according to his schedule.

Herbieheart

Herbie, the hairball hoarker. This picture is courtesy of our awesome pet sitter, Addy from Prad’s Posh Pet Care. I especially like the hearts that look like devil horns because that pretty much sums up Herbie’s personality. Sweet but naughty.

There aren’t too many moments in human or pet parenthood that quite compare to having to get up and clean up a stinky, grody hairball at 4:42 in the morning with two grumpy dogs who refuse to move off the covers that need to be removed from the bed. The only moment that comes to mind is being barfed on by a small child who assures you he isn’t going to get sick when he crawls into bed with you in the middle of the night. That was worse. But this was close.

After I stripped off the quilt, the blankets and the top sheet and found a different quilt to use for the rest of the night, I was pretty much up for day. Did I mention I am not a morning person? I went to bed around 1 am last night. It does not thrill me to be up before the sun for any reason, but it’s especially unpleasent when I haven’t been asleep for even four hours. At least today, I was productive with my extra time that should have been dedicated to sleeping.

So far, I’ve done four loads of laundry (mattress pad, sheets, blanket and quilt), cooked eight pounds of dog food and two pounds of German potato salad to use up the bacon Dennis defrosted this weekend but we never got around to frying. I’ve straightened the house, cleaned the kitchen, did the dishes, scrubbed the shower and took a shower, did my hair and put on make-up. I even put mascara on my eyebrows! (I didn’t know that was a thing before this morning when I was watching Youtube videos on my iPad while debating if I should get up or not.) It actually works pretty well. Who knew!

I suppose there are benefits to getting up that early. I’ve got a full days worth of chores done before 11 am which frees me up for the rest of the day to write. Or play video games. And maybe nap. Probably definitely nap. That is the only silver lining to getting woke up that early on this very cold (it’s 3 degrees outside according to my phone) Monday morning. I got stuff done.

Of course, half the stuff I did (laundry) wouldn’t have needed to be done if Herbie had jumped down off the bed and barfed on the floor like a gentleman. Maybe next time. I’ll know in another four days or so.

11:19 AM

Happiness in the Form of Bananas?

February 19th, 2019 9:28 AM

It’s been a rough winter for those of us living in the Midwest. In the past month we’ve seen several snow storms that dropped over 10″ of snow each, two back to back ice storms and a polar vortex system unlike any we’ve seen before. For several days our high daily temperatures were -25 degree with wind chills in the -50’s. Not fun.

To make matters worse, Dennis was traveling for work during the weeks when most of the crappy weather hit. Not that I’m not capable of handling crappy weather on my own. I am. But, somehow, crappy weather doesn’t seem quite so crappy when there’s someone else stuck in the house with you to commiserate with. There’s a reason that old adage, “Misery loves company” has survived. It’s true.

Aside from the crappy weather, it’s personally been a bit of a challenging winter. A relative that my mother was estranged from for the last decade, but whom I’ve been debating reaching out to for the past few years, passed away unexpectedly after Christmas. I guess I shouldn’t have waited to reach out.  Now the reason I hesitated, because I was embarrassed that I didn’t keep in contact with her after my mother severed their relationship, seems silly. I should have just told her the truth, that I lost track of her because I was busy working and being a single mother. Not a good excuse for sure, but better than her thinking I was following my mom’s lead and severing the relationship, too.

Another ending that happened this winter, is also a beginning, so it checks both the loss and anxious check-boxes in my psyche. I’m finishing up with the coaching and revising on my novel. Which is a good thing, of course, and what I set out to do last summer. However, that means it’s time for me to start a new novel and with that comes the unknown. Which I hate. You’d think being an author would give you the ultimate control to manipulate your characters into doing whatever you want them to do. You’re their master, their god, and the decision-maker of their destinies.

Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s true that authors create characters and breathe life into them, but after that, the characters take it from there. You can put them in different situations and conflicts and they’ll handle them the way they want, not the way you want. And if you try force it, to say, try to stick to your outline that you foolishly created when you thought you actually controlled the creative process, they’ll dig their heels in and refuse to obey. My book stalled for a year and half because I was forcing a male and female character to be romantically involved. Eventually, I couldn’t move forward in any part of the plot because their relationship wasn’t working. Once I cut over a hundred pages, and changed the nature of their relationship, I came to find out that the male character in the relationship was gay. Well, no wonder it wasn’t working! Once I sorted that out, the characters played nicely together for the rest of the book and plot continued on. I never looked at the outline again.

Now I have to go through that all over again with a new book and new characters. It’s kind of like getting divorced and starting over in a new relationship, trying to build a life and a new family. It’s hard. And awkward and I miss my old, familiar characters.

And how does all this relate to bananas, you ask? After all, the title of this blog entry is Happiness in the Form of Bananas? Today, in midst of my winter doldrums filled with loss and angst and heavy dose of cabin-fever, I received an unexpected bunch of bananas. Not just one or two bananas, but a large bunch of bananas. Much larger than I would ever buy seeing as how bananas are one of Dennis’ top three things he will never ever eat, right up there with sauerkraut and horseradish. When I buy bananas, I buy one or two at a time for myself.

Today I received an order from Peapod, the grocery delivery service. I don’t use them often, but the ground lamb I buy for Charlie’s dog food is four dollars cheaper a pound through Peapod than it is at the grocery store. Considering I buy it in ten pound increments, it’s a significant savings. Since I’m paying for delivery anyway from Peapod, when I order the lamb, I order a few more things for us, too.

Included in today’s meat-laden order (I got 20 pounds of lamb today because it was on sale) there was this lovely bunch of organic bananas.

bananas

I called Peapod and told them I received some one else’s bananas, but instead of sending the driver back for them, which I expected, they told me to keep them. Well, that’s kind of cool, I thought. But what am I going to do with all these bananas?

And then the creativity began to flow. Strawberry banana smoothies? Or how about banana bread? With walnuts and fresh butter? Yum. No, I know! Banana cupcakes with chocolate frosting! That’s it. Yummy and easily frozen in single portions since Dennis won’t eat them. The perfect treat.

Did I mention that Dennis and I have been dieting this winter? Nothing cheers a person up on gray, cold winter day like eating a piece of damned steamed fish. These bananas were a gift. A sign to shrug off the caloric restraints for a moment and go play in the kitchen. Psychotic rationalization of someone who’s tired of being perpetually hungry for a month? Quite possibly. Do I care? Not even a little bit.

So, on this 26 degree morning which is actually sunny and warm, (yes, I now consider 26 degrees a warm day), instead of working on the new book or finishing my revision on the old book, I’m researching banana cupcake recipes which I will bake this afternoon and consume happily later today. Probably before dinner. And then again after dinner.

Thank you, Peapod.

February 19, 2019. 10:22 PM