I am a morning person.
I’m not sure if this is because I was raised by parents who enjoy getting up before the crack of dawn to jump into an ice-cold swimming pool, or if it is actually a distinct characteristic of my own, but I love mornings. Most mornings, regardless of how long I was up the night before, my body clock will rouse me between 7:00 and 8:30 am. For someone with an agricultural family, this may sound like sleeping in, but to most people my age, the idea of waking up any time before 10:00 am sounds horrifying and cruel. If my evening schedule would permit, however, I would be up at 5:00 to watch the sun rise.
Mornings are consistently beautiful in every season. In the springtime they bring peaceful morning showers, washing the last bits of dirty snow down the street in happy, bubbling runnels. In the summer and fall their dewy sheets glisten off of intricately, fragile cobwebs and flaming, autumn colors. The winter mornings gleam gloriously off sparkling snow banks, and shimmering ice crystals, pouring their blinding brilliance through my frosted windows.
When I was a child, I loved to lay in bed for a few extra minutes, pondering the delight of a new day and drinking in my surroundings: the sounds of my parents quietly talking in the kitchen and the hum of water boiling for oatmeal, the rich, warm scent of coffee drifting down the hallway, the occasional creak of the bed, reminding me to watch that I didn’t land on my little sister below when I leapt off the top bunk of our bed. It was a nice place to wake up: sunlight dancing through crisp lace curtains onto the pale green and violet walls I’d helped my mother sponge paint when I was about five (well… I kept her company at least), the painting of a mother and daughter sitting on a wooden, garden swing in the fresh morning mist (that is so us 
), the piles of ferocious stuffed animals strewn about the room and bed that I preferred to dolls (a tiger, wolf, leopard, and buffalo were the favorites… also a pig named Miss Maple, go figure). I did have at least one beloved doll. I found her faceless, hairless and shabbily dressed at a garage sale for $1. The poor dear was quickly crowned with lovely black tresses made from sock, a lopsided ruby smile, sparkling blue eyes and an extensive wardrobe–snipped, sewn and stitched together by yours truly. She was named Charlotte. I have a vague feeling the idea might have been stolen from a Laura Ingalls book.
Anyway, I have somehow slipped from the topic of mornings to childhood memories. Perhaps they are tangentially related by qualities of freshness and innocence. As Anne of Green Gables says, “Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” I believe that feeling is especially strong early in the morning: today is a new day with no mistakes in it. God promises us fresh, new mercy with every morning. What a miracle and beautiful promise that is! A new sunrise pours into my room right now, glowing orange from the bright, Hawaiian cloth covering our window and feeding my happy umbrella plants. So I feel His grace pouring generously into my undeserving heart once more.
I would love to hear a childhood memory or two of your own, if you should chance to drop by.
Otherwise have a wonderfully, peaceful morning and blessed rest of the day!
LCQ
I’m a morning person, too. No idea why – cause I didn’t grow up on a farm…but I’m more efficient in the morning.
The husband is only a morning person because of the dogs. If not for them needing to go out…he’d stay in bed until noon…
I am not a morning person, but I do have a childhood memory I am particularly fond of.
When I was home schooled as a first grader I was given many responsibilities assisting my mother with chores. One of the chores I actually enjoyed was washing the dishes. I enjoyed this chore because my mother would wash the dishes and I would rinse and dry them all the while my mother would teach me German phrases. Had my mother kept up with it and then found a tutor who could assist me when I reached a level beyond her; I very well could have been fluent in German today. Oh well, I think it explains where my love of languages was first unleashed.
Great post, keep it up, Lady Carmen.
In Him,
De Facto
what a beautifully written post. i felt like i was there with you as you described your moments as a child. very nice.
it inspired me to foster more of a homey routine for my children. thank you for that.
i used to be a morning person but my hubs and 2 kiddos arent. so i have become rather indifferent to them. i can sleep in or bounce up early…it doesnt matter to me. but after this post…i think rising way before the fam and fostering an atmosphere of HOME SWEET HOME would be a wonderful change!