Sometimes the morning can just slip away. As a rule I get up and run round the village, often loading the washing machine before I go. I return home and shower and sort a few things out and then we have a leisurely breakfast. We read the news headlines online, discuss the state of the world, clear away the breakfast stuff … and suddenly half the morning is gone and we are rapidly heading towards noon.
I have been trying to remedy that by setting my alarm a little earlier. It’s good to be out and about first thing in the morning. It’s good to feel you have the day stretched out ahead of you.
This morning when my alarm rang at 7.45 I hit the snooze button … or so I thought. Confident that within eight minutes (who decided that the snooze interval was eight minutes?) my alarm would remind me to get up, I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, it was almost 9.00. I went out to run anyway. It was already hot ... June has finally come good for the time being. Summer here must have the same difficulty getting started as people do.
Returning from my run, I spotted the milkman. He commented that it would soon be too hot for running. I explained that I had intended to run about an hour earlier. He had had the same alarm problem, he told me. In his case the alarm was set for 3.30am and he woke at 4.00. That’s a bit early but I suppose he has cows to milk!
I have been in messenger-chat communication with Granddaughter Number One this morning. She has a collection of reptiles in her home-menagerie: a snake (or maybe two), a bearded dragon, an iguana (I think) and a variety of other creatures as well. Her best friend/house-mate’s mother works in some capacity for the childcare service in Stockport and had arranged for Granddaughter Number One and best friend to accompany her on a visit to nurseries in her district to show the reptiles to the children. A lovely idea.
Granddaughter Number One commented first of all that today is a lovely day, perfect for transporting reptiles, who don’t appreciate cold and damp weather. Later she told me about the differences she noticed between some of the nurseries she has visited, the way you can tell which serve more affluent areas of the city, specifically the difference in the behaviour of the children. She was particularly stuck by the case of a two year old, unwashed and in dirty clothes, almost nonverbal but still as fascinated by the reptiles as the more articulate children.
Often the unwashed state of a child and the dirty clothes are the most visible signs of a family that isn’t coping. It might be a choice between buying food or buying soap. And it’s harder to teach your child social skills and cooperative behaviour if you are stressed about stuff like that. I’ve written before now about the teacher who gives each child in the class a loo roll to take home at the end the week, the schools that now offer laundry facilities for families who can’t afford to run their washing machine, assuming their washing machine hasn’t broken down and they can’t afford to get it fixed. There are teachers who provide snacks for their class. There are children whose only decent meal is their free school dinner!
21st century Dickensian Britain!!
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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