Setting the alarm a little earlier helped immensely this Sunday morning. Normally, I always wake a few minutes before the alarm, always, no matter what the time it's set to ring. (This may be due to the fact that I'm a light sleeper, that I can hear the dog member of the family rustling in her box, or possibly I have some kind of 'internal clock' set for the prevailing time zone. I don't recall having too much trouble adjusting when our part of the state went from no daylight savings time which meant Central Time in the summer, and Eastern in the winter, or was it vice versa? Anyway, I still call ahead when I have shifts to work in the northern parts of the state or across the state line westerly to ensure I'll have that extra hour to sleep in after figuring out Mapquest travel time and the beginning of a shift. When working the east side of the state, I call to verify the time to avoid showing up an hour late! Imagining angry customer patients cursing and beating down the gate just sends a shiver of dread. But it's not the customers that I'm afraid of...the co-workers glaring with dagger eyes until we catch up with all complaints--which sometimes is not at all! Not that I have been late, but sometimes when I come in and I'm expected to know the very unfriendly computers or read the handwriting of every Tom, Dick and Harry, or arbitrate with an insurance company why someone cannot get something at such and such time for this or that price, and I know nothing, it's a shear battle of will to not turn tail and run at the first opportunity.)
I'm the only one working in my department when scheduled on Sunday mornings, so I did feel a certain amount of leeway (not having to be there a certain time to unlock the door for my co-worker, though she does have a key, though the state doesn't know, and what the state doesn't know, then we'll just count on having an official reason for being here at certain time, eh?)
When I talked with birthday Jims who lives farther north, he expressed surprise about sunrise and sunset times compared to where my family lives in the mideastern part of the country(relatively speaking--though many on the eastern seaboard might might say we're in the midwest. A childhood in the far north, and acute awareness of geographical location of various parts of this grand country, it's probably past time for a more realistic acceptance of updated colloquialisms, much along the line of accepting the logic of widely adopting the metric system--However, we sometimes get our panties in a wad over the most provincial kinds of issues!) Jims was wondering what time it starts to get dark here and when the sun comes up. Of course, it's much different than the land of youth, nearly 20 hours of daylight at summer's height, and sunrise mid-morning in winter. Our siblings participated in marathons running up (and down) the sides of mountains at midnight. Fancy having to wait until 23:00 to see 4th of Juy fireworks off Fire Island in the inlet! Jims lives at a somewhat of a similar latitude than when we were kids, but my family is much farther south. Here, we grow pumpkins, and squash, and corn, for Pete's sake! Summer warmth, along the westward oceanside and Jimsy can grow chestnuts, peaches and apples. But, when we were kids, despite the actual length of summer sunlight, it was not warm enough for more than a potato and cabbage patch (cabbage leaves to cover your head), peas, and zucchini, and wild berries.
So, in rising earlier this morning, I had time to post e-mails to family members, 'where's your bike? I didn't see it on the porch when I got up this morning' and 'drop by Monday night for curry, if you're so inclined', and leave a postcard at younger son's college dorm, as well as stop by the side of the road for photos of the magnificent sunrise at 08:00.
And, so it was; beautiful and poignantly brief, but evolving into daylight before my eyes. Pink, greyish purple (from impending stormy action this afternoon--red sky at morning sailor take warning), pure golden rays through the clouds, the special quality of early sunlight highlighting the sharply outlined cornstalks in a farmer's field. (It's a very inexpensive digital and details may not show up, but capturing images helps to recall the clarity of vision I felt this morning out of my own retinal photoreceptors.)
I was 4 minutes late, a rarity, usually 15-20 minutes earlier than expected when I have my own choice in the matter (a situation sometimes occurring when 'other' people are involved in decisions about fixing breakfast of tea and toast or cinnamon rolls and scrambled eggs, ensuring someone is up in time for something, or the dog member has an inclination to dilly-dally, etc. I know, I know, I should always anticipate those issues and get up even earlier, no more of this timing to the minute lifestyle I've maintained since age 14 (which used to drive my mother bonkers when everyone was in the vehicle ready to leave for 08:00 Mass --we always got there at least 15 minutes before the service (I remember arriving so early to other events with my family under the unwavering guidance of Mother that we sometimes had to help set up for the event--arrange chairs, etc. but I was still usually still finishing with a shower, when everyone else was ready to leave--always arriving with wet hair). So, this morning, I figured that since I was the only one there, I'd even stop for coffee in the cafeteria before arriving to the department and start the morning's work with some real bright-eyed bushytail!
When I got to the workstation, washing my hands at the sink before starting work, I looked out of the window at the gas station across the street (it's an endless source of amusement to watch daily, hourly gas price updates--actually a little amazement thrown in considering how earlier in presidential primary campaigns last year one or two candidates were 'guaranteeing that they could do something about setting the prices--like a Queen or King). It was already yellowy sun streaming from the east; I felt blessed in some way that I'd been able to take time to record a gorgeous mid-October sunrise on the way in to work this weekend. A delusion or whether the camera recorded what I saw in my mind's eye, we'll see later at the photo shop, but for now... get back to work! The surgery nurse has come by to restock her emergency cart for two STAT D & Cs and a Caesarean-section. They've been busy, and it's time for me to finish, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment