When I was growing up, my dad would get up around 5 or 5:30 a.m. (I’m not actually sure when as I was never up at that time unless absolutely necessary). This meant that by the time I got up (usually 6:30 on weekdays at that time), the house had already been readied for the day: the window shades were all open with sun pouring in, the fire had been stoked and more wood added if it was cold, etc. On weekends, my parents would occasionally turn up the music on their living room speakers (my bedroom shared the wall) and rock out to some AC/DC or some such while making breakfast around 8-8:30 a.m. I loved it. I love waking up to hearing (or seeing) other people already enjoying being up.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Get Up First
When I was growing up, my dad would get up around 5 or 5:30 a.m. (I’m not actually sure when as I was never up at that time unless absolutely necessary). This meant that by the time I got up (usually 6:30 on weekdays at that time), the house had already been readied for the day: the window shades were all open with sun pouring in, the fire had been stoked and more wood added if it was cold, etc. On weekends, my parents would occasionally turn up the music on their living room speakers (my bedroom shared the wall) and rock out to some AC/DC or some such while making breakfast around 8-8:30 a.m. I loved it. I love waking up to hearing (or seeing) other people already enjoying being up.
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