Country Mouse Monday: farmer's hours

6am: early bird cafeIt's the Monday morning after a holiday weekend. The Fourth of July fell on a Thursday this year, so since Wednesday night, it's been a bit go-go-go on the social side.

Which means I'm a little bleery this morning from lack of sleep.

And dreaming of having friends who are farmers.

I have this idea -- probably from some book or books I read as a child, maybe the Little House series -- this image of the farmer rising before dawn, lighting his way to the barn with the kerosene lantern held aloft, leaning in against the cow's flank, milking in the quiet and dark.

The farmer is up and at it early, before the light, to get everything done.  And the farmer is early to bed.

Oh, but none of my friends are early to bed.

Normally, this doesn't create too many conflicts for me. Except on holiday weekends. Or really, if I think about it for two seconds longer, all summer long.

And since I can't always choose to stay home with a book and be in bed by 9:15, here I am again, a little fuzzy but still up early, always up early, outside in the garden with a coffee, facing the day.

* * * * *

It's still so worth it, being up and outside early despite the bleery. Otherwise, I would have missed the little hummingbird show we were treated to, two birds zipping around the flowering maple, then coming to rest on the branches of the apricot. I was only fast enough to catch one of them on "film," but wow, what a moment.

Thanks to German chronobiologist Till Roenneberg, I know that this early-riser business of mine is not nurture but overwhelmingly nature. And that this feeling I suffer from, this bleery, is what he calls social jet lag -- a conflict between my internal body clock and the external social clock. That makes me feel a whole lot better.

Because then instead of feeling like I'm just an anti-social introvert, I can see that I am instead just a person who is biologically programmed to wake up early and to need quiet time to feel happy.  

It's not better or worse, it's just me.

* * * * * 

No matter what, I'm living these farmer's hours. This is what my biology wants, even if I've been up late watching fireworks or hanging around with friends. Still my body needs this morning time, no matter what. I suppose there'd be less conflict, less social conflict, if I didn't have to go to work all day -- then, perhaps I could take naps, catch up.

But until then, I'm periodically down with social jet lag. And wishing for maybe just a few farmer friends, just a couple of others who similarly want to leave the party early, to get home, cozy up with a book and settle down, eager for morning to come.

XX