I woke up at 5:30 this morning. Dark and still, only one apologetic hoot from a train and no traffic on the road. But I couldn't sleep.
I don't think I've had a full night's sleep, or, more certainly, two full nights in a row, for weeks.
I read a book recently in which the same thing happened to the main character. Eventually, she got used to operating on less sleep. She started getting up and going out for walks. Today, I found myself doing the same thing.
Sleepy dog wondering what's going on, but happy to be out. He's a darker shadow in the grey gloom, still so dark that I can't see the shadow of his tail, but I know it's wagging merrily. The parrots are shouting at each other from the safety of two popsicle-stick trees, one on either side of the road. Not a light in most houses. Cracks of orange in others.
Soon, dark morning walks will be the norm. It's been nearly two years since Toby and I were up and out in the dark every day. This time last year, I was getting ready to leave my job. To quit corporate marketing and make use of the round the world tickets we bought, before coming back and figuring out what happens next. Now, I'm here, back in Melbourne and in a new job and a different career that I enjoy enormously. Not every moment, but most of them, and many of them greatly.
We went to Italy last May. Slept the long flight and woke up in Rome. Despite my happiness in this moment, I want to do it again. To live in Italy, for a few months. To be in Italy.
Recently, I started writing daily pages -- thoughts and ideas, no design to the words, no audience, just stuff. It was a treat, today, to be up early and to write without one eye on the clock. Two cups of coffee and the mists of night dreams fading away.
I had a nightmare last night which is now making me laugh. Yesterday, the talk on our street was of the spate of burglaries on our block. Some houses have been done twice. We haven't (yet). I thought 'What if they took the laptop? All my photos of Italy!' I resolved to buy a back up drive, today, and to back up the whole machine and hide it.
So, then I'm dreaming, late at night, and I find myself on a lilo (air mattress), half-sinking, in a lake. I had a big camera, and I was trying to keep it above water, while sitting next to me was a guy (I don't know who, some New Zealander), and he kept saying, 'Don't worry; I'll download your photos and then they'll be safe even if you drop the camera'.
Then a shark showed up. And I woke up. (This shark was not very scary. Its teeth were remarkably tiny, like fig seeds, all in a row, and I think it sort of slobbered on my leg. It even looked more like an overgrown trout, because I've seen lots of trout and I've never seen a shark.)
- And who said that we don't dream our daily concerns? Back up those photos or the trout-shark will come and slobber on you. That's what I say.
As you can see, early mornings make for rambling.
Here's something gorgeous:
Spoonflower fabric of the week: Teacups, by Hannah Raeside of Manchester, UK. I've been profligate and ordered a yard. It's going to be cushion fronts, for the colourful scatter of cushions I am determined to make, inspired by the latest CraftSanity interview with Jennifer Paganelli. At some point in the interview, both Jennifers are chatting about how fun it is to have real colour in your house, and how everything doesn't need to be 'matchy-matchy'. Well, I agree. A light went off in my mind, and the cushions will be happening. I can't wait to show you the first pair!