Waking Up

‘Dear Peg and Friends’
I love waking in the mornings, specially when I first open my eyes and I’m shrugging off the drug of a night’s sleep. Immediately, I’m endeavouring to work our exactly where I am in this world, trying to remember where I went to bed the night before. Was I in my own comfortable bed back home? Or was I away on one of my a periodic wandering in foreign parts, until fully conscious returns. I’m searching for, clues to exactly where I am, especially if it’s ‘off shore’, that’s where I’m wakening.
I love the tropics, the heavy scent of their flowers and vegetation, the frangipani, being wafted into my bedroom. Immediately I recognise it as different, especially at ‘sunup’. There is also squawk of the ‘Miner birds’ too which seem have a distinctive call, and they seems to be everywhere. Always the tropical mornings seem to be cool, and this enables with the heavy calm air, a brilliant medium for the transfer of the flowers fragrances, even the forest itself gives off a scent, and don’t forget the good earth.
The bird noises are different to what I’m used to. Even if I haven’t yet opened my eyes, I can usually tell by the heavy scent of the flowers, just about where I am in the world.
Should someone have managed to get out of bed, and start breakfast, and in the tropics, most homes do rise very early. The breakfast pending where you are in the world, always smells different too. The strongly brewed fresh coffee, freshly buttered croissants, smell of freshly baked baguettes. That too smell different than plain porridge at home.
I remember once staying in a French Village and the family whose guest I was, gave me a personal Maid. I said an emphatic ‘No’ to this, and as far as I was concerned the matter was not negotiable. I didn’t need like want, or require a maid. All I did however, was to make the woman invisible, and I drove her underground. Say, when I went to take a shower, I would carefully lay out on my bed, a change of underwear, clean shirt. and a pair of slacks. However I was not taking into account my invisible help. Emerging from the ablution, I was unaware I had been under close observation, and I now found all my clothes had hung themselves tidally up again, I was now back to square one. Same with my washing. I could put it into the machine, but before I could get to deal with it, to my surprise it had jumped out of the machine and was now hanging out to dry. At this stage the family moved in. They explained they were trying to give the woman in question a wage, as she had just lost her husband with a heart attack. They wanted to do it, without making it look like a handout. Would I cooperate? Of course I would. Problem solved. I no longer had the feeling I was under constant observation, but I was now stuck with a maid.
To wake in the morning it’s also necessary to fall asleep at night, but recently I had an attack of gout. After a visit to the doctor, she put me on course of prednisone. In handing over the scrip, she casually mentioned I might experience problems in sleeping. That for me was an understatement. The drug took away my pain, but at the same time, the promised side effect disrupted my sleep pattern so badly, I could no longer fall asleep. Every night I was as bright as a button, it was impossible to fall asleep, or even feel tired. so for some weeks I got up out of bed and read, and watched TV. I formed the opinion that some of the best TV programmes are screened, when most viewers are tucked up safely in bed, sound asleep.
Someone told me I could request from my GP a sleeping pill. But it also carries side effects, so didn’t seek it’s help.
Love from Sulby Road, Wally
I love waking in the mornings, specially when I first open my eyes and I’m shrugging off the drug of a night’s sleep. Immediately, I’m endeavouring to work our exactly where I am in this world, trying to remember where I went to bed the night before. Was I in my own comfortable bed back home? Or was I away on one of my a periodic wandering in foreign parts, until fully conscious returns. I’m searching for, clues to exactly where I am, especially if it’s ‘off shore’, and that’s where I’m wakening.
I love the tropics, the heavy scent of their flowers and vegetation, the frangipani, being wafted into my bedroom. Immediately I recognise it as different, especially at ‘sunup’. There is also squawk of the ‘Miner birds’ too which seem have a distinctive call, and they seems to be everywhere. Always the tropical mornings seem to be cool, and this enables with the heavy calm air, a brilliant medium for the transfer of the flowers fragrances, even the forest itself gives off a scent, and don’t forget the good earth.
The bird noises are different to what I’m used to. Even if I haven’t yet opened my eyes, I can usually tell by the heavy scent of the flowers, just about where I am in the world.
Should someone have managed to get out of bed, and start breakfast, and in the tropics, most homes do rise very early. The breakfast pending where you are in the world, always smells different too. The strongly brewed fresh coffee, freshly buttered croissants, smell of freshly baked baguettes. That too smells different than plain porridge at home.
I remember once staying in a French Village and the family whose guest I was, gave me a personal Maid. I said an emphatic ‘No’ to this, and as far as I was concerned the matter was not negotiable. I didn’t need like want, or require a maid. All I did however, was to make the woman invisible, and I drove her underground. Say, when I went to take a shower, I would carefully lay out on my bed, a change of underwear, clean shirt. and a pair of slacks. However I was not taking into account my invisible help. Emerging from the ablution, I was unaware I had been under close observation, and I now found all my clothes had hung themselves tidally up again, I was now back to square one. Same with my washing. I could put it into the machine, but before I could get to deal with it, to my surprise it had jumped out of the machine and was now hanging out to dry. At this stage the family moved in. They explained they were trying to give the woman in question a wage, as she had just lost her husband with a heart attack. They wanted to do it, without making it look like a handout. Would I cooperate? Of course I would. Problem solved. I no longer had the feeling I was under constant observation, but I was now stuck with a maid.
To wake in the morning it’s also necessary to fall asleep at night, but recently I had an attack of gout. After a visit to the doctor, she put me on course of prednisone. In handing over the scrip, she casually mentioned I might experience problems in sleeping. That for me was an understatement. The drug took away my pain, but at the same time, the promised side effect disrupted my sleep pattern so badly, I could no longer fall asleep. Every night I was as bright as a button, it was impossible to fall asleep, or even feel tired. so for some weeks I got up out of bed and read, and watched TV. I formed the opinion that some of the best TV programmes are screened, when most viewers are tucked up safely in bed, sound asleep.
Someone told me I could request from my GP a sleeping pill. But it also carries side effects, so didn’t seek it’s help.
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