Routine

At home, I have a strict routine. During the school year, I wake up no later than 7 and get up no later than 8. On days I have class, I shower, let my hair air-dry while I eat cereal and fruit, dry my stupid hair, get dressed, and leave for class with at least 5 minutes of extra time, just in case I want to stop and smell the roses along the way (and I do mean that in a literal sense. I frequently make garden breaks). At night I eat dinner early, usually have dance practices or lessons to teach, do homework, read a few hundred pages of Shakespeare or whatever author I'm assigned for English classes, and then read at least a few pages from a well-worn favorite book to give me nicer dreams. On Saturdays I go to Salsa practice all afternoon, eat with friends, then go ballroom dancing till midnight or later. On Sunday I wake up early for church, dance rehearsals, and homework.



Maggie and her "boyfriend" Trix



In the summertime, my bird wakes me up every morning as soon as the sun comes up, so I only get to sleep in on cloudy days. I can assure you, she has no "snooze button." I get her out of her pen and put her on my pillow and we snuggle till I have to get up for work at 7. Maggie is a particularly good snuggler. Then we (and I do mean "we") have cereal and apples (because the bird likes them more than pears)  for breakfast, and Maggie gets scrambled eggs plus whatever I'm eating or anything else her little heart desires. Then I clean up the (giant) mess she's made and we get dressed and brush "our" teeth (Mag always has to "help" with everything) and then we play the "stick-the-little-bird-in-the-cage-because-Mommy-has-to-get-to-work" game and I drive to the greenhouse and stay there till 6, when it's time to come back so my bird can yell "Mommy's home! Mommy's home!". At night, it's garden time with my mother and then a movie and/or a board game with my sister and the "Birdzilla" (whose favorite game is "Life," where she can carry off the little pink and blue people to throw at the mischievous house bunny lurking like a crocodile below the table). My sister usually wins, but then she usually cheats. Bed time for the birdie is at 10, and I usually go to bed around 11 or midnight. Then it's the same thing the next morning, calls of "Mommy, Mommy!" that get louder and louder till I get up. Obviously, my summer days revolve completely around my bird. I can't help it: I love her and she's a smart little ball of feathers who will not be ignored. She has seen me through some truly nasty times, and even though she's certainly a handful to take care of (think a super-smart 3-year-old with wings), making sure she's happy keeps me happy.

Here in England, I really have no routine. I go to bed at different times every night, which dictates when I get up in the morning. I usually wake up between 6 and 7 out of habit, but I try to at least stay in bed til I get 6 hours in. I know it's not good, but I kind of like having no set routine. Maybe it's because at home I have a little feathered 3-year-old to take care of, as well as an acre's worth of gardens, a pond filled with expensive fish I do not want dying on me, family to keep happy, and friends to socialize with. Here I have no responsibilities at all. I can get up when I want, eat when I want, go to bed when I want. It's a nice little vacation from the work I have at home. As long as I feed myself, shower, go to class, do homework and get at least some sleep, I've got nothing to worry about. It's nice, but I do admit, I miss the responsibilities of home. Having so much to do each day is a real pain, but I like knowing that I'm needed, even if only by a little white bird. Yesterday I learned that apparently makes me a freak. It's a sad lesson to learn from an unexpected source, but oh well. I've decided I just don't care. I need to be needed. Maggie fits perfectly into my life and I owe her more than anyone could imagine. Somehow, she found me and the two of us muddle through life pretty well together. So what if my daily routine is a little different than most people's. I can guarantee that life is far more fun with a goofy little bird around.

While I'm not at all homesick here in London, I know it will be nice to get back to my gardens, my sister, my family, and the little bird who calls me Mommy.

Birdzilla destroying a doughnut