My husband is one of these cheery morning types who wakes up early all invigorated and eager to begin his day. The man actually chooses, chooses, to be at work in the hour of eight. Me? If I could choose what time I got out of bed, it would be in the hour of afternoon. I don’t get to choose though. Not while I have Doodle. He thinks that 9.20 is what time I should be making his breakfast. He’s also figured out that the only way to get me to agree to this is by pushing my feet off the bed with his nose. If this brings merely complaints from my head end and not the sitting position he’s hoped for, he does the one thing guaranteed to make me shoot off the bed as fast as I would if I saw a spider on it; he nibbles my toes. Can’t stand my toes being touched. Bless his little curly tailed alarm clock ways. Grrrr. The reason I’m blogging about this is because it was brought to my attention tonight that, and I quote: “You’re like a different person in the mornings”. Hah! Personally, I believe that I’m the normal one and it’s my husband who is strange for being able to form sentences when he first wakes up. What’s so wrong with not acknowledging the presence of anyone between me and my first cup of coffee? What’s so wrong with greeting the day with a scowl and the complete absence of joy and enthusiasm? The conversation came about because tomorrow morning I am required to be up at 8.00am to go to an appointment with him. I’m almost sure I saw fear in his eyes when he asked what time he should wake me.
Haven’t done a work in progress blog for a while so I’ll show you these 2 humble beginnings while they’re fresh off the easel. Not sure about the one with the houses yet. I went at the blank paper in an unusually sketchy way and it might not work out. The other one I’m really looking forward to carrying on with. I find the challenge of turning just a bunch of colours into a picture really therapeutic.