"At five o'clock in the morning I would be awakened by the clank of a full bucket being set down in the kitchen sink immediately opposite my room... And out I hurried. But the fire was already blazing, fed with dry wood. The milk was boiling on the blue-tiled charcoal stove. Nearby, a bar of chocolate was melting in a little water for my breakfast, and, seated squarely in her cane armchair, my mother was grinding the fragrant coffee which she roasted herself. The morning hours were always kind to her..."
The time came... Earthly Paradise, Colette
I have been trying to become a morning person for many years, because morning people, supposedly, get up and at it and get a lot done. The end of British Summer Time would help me, or so I thought, but it didn't, not at all. That Sunday, the cats woke up at five, I got up, read for a while, fell back to sleep until nine and it has been a struggle since then to get out of bed. It was the beginning of a few weeks of being totally out of kilter.
Normally I embrace the grey skies of autumn on the principle that it is no good struggling against something you can do nothing about and it's always a good time to get on with indoor stuff. This year I have had to work at it much harder. So I started sewing. A few repairs here and there to start with, then, I thought I would give this free pattern a go. Something strange happened once I started to sort out my odds and ends and cut the strips. I kept delving back in the cupboard to find ever brighter, splashier fabrics. It became clear that my preference for muted colours was being completely overwhelmed by a need for the sea, the sun, warmth, light. I became totally focussed and worked on like a demon until all the strips were sewn into squares, all the squares sewn into rows, all the rows sewn into a giant square that covers the top of our king size bed. This piece is bright, very bright. You almost need sunglasses to look at it. It has yet to be quilted but when that is done I have no idea what will become of it.
The soon-to-be-quilt seems to have worked a little bit of magic. This morning I woke before six, early for me, and instead of hiding beneath the covers got up and went to an early morning yoga class. On the way home, the streets were full of golden leaves. Now the sun is out, the washing is on the line, and I've managed to write a blog post. Back in kilter now I hope.