What gets you up in the morning?

I had an email flurry with a long-standing friend of mine this morning. In and amongst the news catching up on, she asked me this question. It wasn't difficult to answer, but it's stayed with me since. 

I had intended to spend the day in my onesie, but the question got me up and writing in my journal, which I haven't done since the beginning of November. It got me dressed and kept me company as I mucked out the chickens and tidied up their area, something I've been meaning to do for a couple of weeks.

It's incredibly useful, being asked questions like that. It allows me to solidify my watery thinking and to mull over context and content. I've been doing an awful lot of feeling in the past few months, not a lot else. No writing, no thinking, no poetry, no art, no gardening. I have been looking after my house, looking after the cat, the chickens and me...and Dave when he lets me. 

But that question and thinking about the answer made me broaden my contracted feelings into the bigger, broader picture.

Love is the answer. Love is what gets me up in the morning.

You see, I love living here. I live in one of the most beautiful parts of the country. I wake up every morning and there's a surprise waiting for me, if I'm observant enough to look. Yesterday, I woke up to two magpies arguing over breakfast outside my bedroom window. Today, I woke up to Rummy purring. I'd overslept and he thought he'd try the subtle route to get to his breakfast. Before I open my eyes, I become aware of Jenga crowing. 

I put my onesie on, my Uggs and the pleasure I get from starting the grinder, putting on the kettle for my coffee and going out to let the chickens out....it's hard to describe. I drink my coffee and catch up on Facebook. I get to catch up with people all across the world! We gossip and moan and put the world to rights.

I laugh every day.

Sometimes it's a chuckle, sometimes it's a big belly laugh. 

My velociraptors and Rummy make me laugh so much. 

Z is nearby and she keeps an eye on me. Her cat Eloise, likes to come visit. She has her own place to eat in my kitchen. She and Rummy are like brother and sister, the sort that like to play rough and tumble. When Z goes visiting, I get to look after her tortoises and flock of bantams. 

I'm thinking of the coming growing season. I'm thinking of tomatoes, onions, potatoes, leeks and cauliflowers. Do I want to grow squash again? What about peppers? And of course, will I have time to tend them? 

My Boy is on the other end of the phone. We don't have a dedicated time to talk. Somehow, he always makes me laugh. He's finishing off his degree with determination and grit. I'm not worried for him. He's playing with plans for after university. The only thing I've told him, is that whatever he choses to do, it must be fun. It must excite him.

I also have tentative plans for myself. I have a novel to finish, poetry to write, paintings to bring into this reality. I also want more learning. I want to become a Core Process Psychotherapist. How I manage that, I still haven't figured out. When the time is right, I will. 

Life is hard right now. Not "challenging" or "interesting" or whatever else euphemisms get to be used. It's really hard. But it's also good. 

Spring has sprung

My garden has snowdrops and daffodils in varying stages of flower. I've also seen a few clusters of spade-like tulip leaves popping up. I'm now on spring heating, which took a bit of boiler manipulation on my part and means I don't need to light a fire first thing in the morning. It's also meant I've been a bit sluggish in hauling my wood. But that's okay, it will happen.

Rummy 'helping' me with my assignment

Dave is likely to be very busy with Science Week coming up soon, so Rummy came to stay last Friday. He's settled in very quickly and as I feared, has trouble with doors. This place has more doors than a submarine. Don't get me wrong, I adore him. But he really is as thick as two short planks. He keeps trying to open my bedroom door at the hinge end when the door is already open. 

He's been exploring the garden and the rest of the estate over the last few days. Pet wisdom dictates that when a cat is moved to a new place, you leave them in for at least a couple of weeks. Rummy lasted a couple of days and then I had enough of him meowing to be let out and trying to make a break for it every time I opened the door. 

Yesterday was the first morning I let him out and he very kindly brought me breakfast. It was still squeaking. Happily, he wasn't offended when I told him what a clever cat he was and refused to let him in. He went off to eat elsewhere. I was pleased to report to Z that at least one of her squatters was earning his keep.

Unfortunately, he's met the local lynx. It was not a happy meeting. I say lynx, because that's what this cat looks like, it's not really a lynx (though apparently there are plans afoot to release them in Thetford, about 30 miles away). Rummy is sleek, but incredibly solid beast and very physical with it. Whereas other cats flow and tread softly, you can hear him walk and he lands with a thump. If you try and push him off something, he'll stay put unless you put some intention behind it. 

The lynx is a third larger than Rummy. Granted he was probably puffed up, but I have seen him out and about before. He's huge. In any case, Rummy got his ass handed to him on a platter with crudités and dips. I chased off said lynx. Rummy's dignity and ego were more wounded, he spent the evening curled up on my lap. 

This morning he kept me company when I fed the tortoises and velociraptors. Given the predator helping itself to their ranks and their general reluctance to come in at night, Z has decided it's best to keep them in their pen. Something they are not very happy about at all. They've been plotting. I've seen trouble brewing. Not this morning.

Rummy wasn't the least bit interested in them. The velociraptors however, were unimpressed and for the first time in a long time, didn't try to make a break for it when I came in with their breakfast. Rummy's interest was instead focused on another cat, huddled under a pile of wood. This kitty stayed put and apart from a bit of hissing back at him, didn't offer much violence. I'm hoping they'll make friends. Rummy is actually a sociable beast. When he's been with Dave, he hung out with the rest of the cats in the close. To the point that they'd try to invite themselves in for dinner. 

In weak moments I wonder about getting a border collie puppy.

Some thoughts about living in the country

Here are just a few thoughts I've had over the last couple of weeks living in the country:

• I really like it, even though I'm not country-folk tough
• I really like it, even if it means I have to leave the house bang on 7.40 to get to work at 8.30
• If I am even just 5 mins later than that, the 45 minute commute, turns into an hour + (I shit you not)
• Poringland is the Hotel California of Norfolk villages. You can drive through, but you can never leave. I didn't leave quick enough one morning, I sat for half an hour creeping through this small village

• Plumbers are popular men around here. The soonest I could get a plumber was four weeks from my call, i.e. middle of November
• I ended up calling a large company to sort out the boiler issue and my Norwich plumber for the rest

• People are really friendly, everyone really does know everyone else
• It's kind of weird, kind of comforting

• I've seen a lot of wildlife since being here:

• Dave noticed this little guy munching his way through the hedge. He took no notice of us tapping the windows or anything
• He is a muntjack, an import from China that escaped. They are about the size of a large dog or a medium sized goat
• I've never seen one this close before
• I've seen several pheasants, jays, magpies, crows, pigeons, deer and lots of cows
• There's a diary up the road

• This is the milk they sell and that I have taken to drinking

• These are the cows the milk I drink came from. Aren't they gorgeous? They were so curious when they saw us standing by the gate
• I am ridiculously excited by the fact that I've seen the beasts my food comes from and the money I put into the machine to get the milk, goes straight to the farmer
• The farmer, who I've met and who makes an awesome brie (don't know if it can be called a brie if it's made on the Norfolk/Suffolk border, but you get the picture)

• I used my workout area for the first time today. It's perfect. For the first time I've got enough space to move in and I can keep all my stuff out
• I watch my exercise DVDs on my laptop to remind me what to do
• It was really hard going
• I still feel really tired
• I still feel really happy I moved here.