My new normal - Morning

Just like Chicago I wake up every morning at 3:00am – even with ear plugs, eye mask, a comfortable bed, a/c, and Vamsi by my side I still wake up 3:00am tossing and turning maybe falling asleep, before Vamsi’s alarm at 7:l00am. I don’t know if I ever fall asleep and wake again – hard to tell time between 3:00am and 7:00am either way the new normal is to wake up congested, dry, and tired.

Unlike my Chicago home, which sits on the west side of Lake Michigan, allowing me to watch the sunrise every morning – allowing me to greet the day as the day greet meets me – allowing me to acknowledge my God – and wonder in God’s glory every time the color strikes the horizon marking morning – Here, we live on the east side of the Atlantic, meaning the sun does not reveal herself to me until late in the morning. She must first pass over the water side, she must pass over the central hill of Mamba Point, the tall coconut trees, that surround our compound and give it its namesake, the high walls, protecting us from the unknown, and she must burn of the marine haze that comes from living low and near the ocean. Similar to say, San Diego, the humidity is trapped in the evening, not only by the mountains, but by the cool air, creating a fog, a mist, a haze that must be burned off by the sun every morning.

But I have a new way to enjoy the morning – the crows of the resident rooster! Every morning  he proudly sings: Good Morning ! Good Morning! Like me, he is excited to see the imminent arrival of the sun, and potential for what the new day will bring to Coconut Plantation.

That is my wake up song – the song of the Rooster brings me peace and a feeling that all is normal at Coconut Plantation. I make my coffee and my egg sandwich just like home – my little bits of home/normalcy that I try to bring to my day. Usually at 6 or 7 I am busy writing – today I got a late start – sleeping until past seven, then remembering its Monday and I have to prepare for Mamie’s arrival. Yes, we have to prepare – we live in the house as if we sleep in separate beds – what may seem obvious to some is not obvious to Mamie – the less attention we bring to ourselves as a couple is best for all involved. On the days that Mamie arrives, especially Monday the beginning of the work week, there are preparations: Make sure “my bed” is unmade, remove my belongings from “Vamsi’s” bedroom, lock the “valuables” closet, take all the dirty dishes out of the fridge (yes yes we are that lazy), make a list to review with Mamie.

Already behind, I am trying to catch up, but then Vamsi rushes in to the dining room, plops his large messenger bag on the table to put his computer inside and when he opens the computer he finds his bag is teeming white spiders! I immediately rush Vamsi out the front door forcing the now infected dining room chair with him. While he dissects his bag, I run to fetch the bug spray made for clothes, luggage, tents, and the like. I return handing the bottle to Vamsi and he continues to deal with his issue I return to my coffee and writing.

Just another “normal” morning in Monrovia.

Well now Mamie is deep into dusting and sweeping, which means she turns off the a/c in order to keep the dust from flying around the walls, and opens all the blinds – turning my cool beach home into a warm, dry, dusty bin. Frustrated but not defeated, I pick up my water, coffee, laptop and head to the pool!

Sigh – well of course all the workers are out and about raking the sand, sweeping the road, sweeping pool side, creating more dust that can eventually carry on the breeze into all our homes, so that all the housekeepers have more to dust and sweep. Of course, I have learned to find the raking, of the gravel and grass, the metal scraping the hard sandy ground without any rhythm or pattern to be soothing – lets me know the compound staff is busy at work – and that I am not alone.

The new “normal.”