Early Birds

I am up early, 4 am. Kori should be on her way over here, she said 4:30-4:45, but it is now 5:21. I feel good, I am on my second cup of coffee, and I stretched, though not thoroughly. I am wondering why this new setup doesn’t automatically spell check, and how I can alleviate that situation. It now occurs to me why so many writers get up this early and turn their phones off, it’s cool out and the mind is lucid. This SHOULD become habitual… and most assuredly it will contribute to my growing nap habit. The hottest part of the day should be spent in a dreamy haze anyway. With the extreme temperatures yesterday, and little to no circulation and a temporary blackout; the only way to survive was to take cold showers and minimize movement… dreams really didn’t come, but reality was as stagnant as the air. I even considered going to “test out” Sam’s Clubs Freezer section. OHhhhh the thought.
This is good, I am writing, just like I promised myself I would once I got this computer. PRODUCTIVITY. So I just got a voice mail.. Kori-bean is sick! OH no… no clover picking, up early for not no reason, but I guess a different reason than suspected. I should fill up this page with words, you don’t have to read them. Pretty much I need to just get back in the habit of writing, writing, writing… and this typing thing goes a helluva lot faster than script, which I love to do, but is starting to effect my wrists. This is better for you, right?
I live in a place where a rooster crows. It is not restricted to the butt crack of dawn, though he is quite consistent with that as well. I really hope it cools off today.
So, a bird flew in here this morning, all the bright lights attract the barn swallows and since I live in a barn, the swallows run the joint in the summer months. The rafters are kind of like their summer home. I enjoy the damage they do to the bug population that would otherwise crowd the scene. Luckily the little buddy found his way out just about as quickly as he came in. It doesn’t always happen that way, most times they freak out and fly around looking to land on something, just to rest their over active heart. If it’s dark out, I find the only way to get them to leave is to turn the light on outside the door, and turn off all the lights inside, usually they fly to the light outside and you shut the door being more cautious next time. The quirks of living on a farm. The bat I found on the fly sticky trap wasn’t so lucky with his escape. The thing was pissed, and who wouldn’t be if they found themselves going out to dinner only to end up in sticky damn near impossible to escape situation. I really wanted to help it out, give it a hand. Especially since was obviously still struggling to get off. I think the barn swallows and the bats do their job for our little community. They damage the bug population, leaving me with one less thing to worry about. I also know bats have rabies, so my inclination to try and handle this little angry flying rodent. He ends up hissing, and I literally kind of holler and step back four steps with my ass puckered. Why am I puckering my ass? What do I think is going to happen to my by means of this little black thing stuck to a adhesive tube? His teeth are miniscule. And I wonder if the programming and association of bats to vampires has somehow effected my psyche. It’s harmless in it’s present state, but somewhere at the back of my mind, it’s going to magically transform into a vampire and be pissed I didn’t help it out of it’s predicament. I don’t even really read or seek out vampire based entertainment. That must just be a run off of the collective consciousness. Especially with all the current hype around the True Blood series or what ever it’s called… like I said, I wouldn’t know.
This week seems to be a folly of plans gone awry. Kori obviously needs to slow down, and her body is telling her that through the voice of vomit. This is a sign to me to attack some things around here that have been negligent, such as the mounting pile of dishes in my sink… And believe it or not, there are more mice to kill. I need to set up my “studio office,” which only means now that I have the computer and a printer, there should be a place that I use it in order to keep it clean and free of debris, and a non cluttered place to encourage good behavior like 4 am writing sessions.
Other work, move more shit, clean more shit… take a nap? I want to go back to bed, it is almost 6am, which is when one of my sleep cycles kicks in… perhaps…
Doesn’t that sound ideal? Get up at 4, start some coffee, do some stretching, sit down and write for about an hour and a half to two hours? Go back to bed for a little while, get up and start the day for real? Or just stay up and kick ass into overdrive and go for a walk…The coolest part of the day lately.
It could be the fact that winter is usually longer than the summer, and getting out of bed when it’s cold out is a million times harder than when it’s warm. All you can think about is the warm covers, and perhaps the shared body heat of the someone next to you. You ignore the fact you have to put your warm feet on the cold ground, because to acknowledge it, only makes you shiver, and you are still warm under that blanket, dreading the imposing dilemma of getting up and warm.
I only learned recently that big birds have a hard time circulating blood into their wings when it is cold out. It takes much more work for them, and they can appear sluggish in comparison the when things are warmer. It makes sense then that birds would migrate for more than just the reason of food. Cold weather really bothers their response time. In turn be careful when you see large birds near the road on cold days, on coming traffic startles them and in response they move, but not always in the best direction, and not always as fast as you would expect.
I had a large turkey vulture damn near hit my car. It was a cool morning, and there was a dead deer alongside the road that him and some buddies were munching on. As I approached they started to scatter, and most of them flew in the opposite direction into the forest. One however, headed right for the passenger window, and with an increase in speed on my part, he barely missed me. The sound of birds hitting a windshield makes me a little sick.
I remember going driving with my step mom right after I got my permit. We were driving down Road 22 off of Happy Jack toward Otto Road, and this flock of small birds was coming directly for us, one hit the window, I took my hands off of the wheel and ducked. I suppose that is a natural response to something flying at you at eye level. Karen grabbed the wheel perhaps kind of freaked out because riding with a new driver is scary enough. I think I might even have made a loud “AHHHHH!” noise, rough on a parents nerves.
This spell check thing, or lack there of, is annoying. I am ready for a nap! End of transmission….

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