Up with the lark… not quite!

My dad was one of those people who would wake early every morning, quite refreshed whatever time he went to bed (usually quite late, gone midnight) and he’d be wide awake. he’d get up and have breakfast, and when we had a big garden when we were very little, if the day was nice he would go out and do some digging or weeding or whatever little job needed doing. In the holidays he would get up early, and I remember when we were in Scotland having trout for breakfast which he had caught at about 5:30 while I was still asleep! We used to have a milkman who came round with a horse and float, and if he was ahead of himself he’s come in and have a cup of tea with dad before continuing his round. He may well have been a local lad who my dad knew, but I can’t imagine our milkman doing that – he drives a motorised truck and runs up to the house with the milk then dashes away for the next delivery.

When I was in my early teens I had a morning paper round and I was well able to get up when roused and get out and collect the newspapers; I didn’t need calling twice and once I was outside I quite enjoyed it. My next really early starts were when I worked for a year at the airport, which I loved. Sometimes my shift began at 6, again I never minded, driving through the silent sleeping streets was quite enjoyable. I left the airport, trained as a teacher and my second job was in a school two bus journeys away, so I was out of the house just gone six in the morning. I never like to be late for work so whatever I’ve done in my life, I have always been very early.

Now I work at home writing… how I wish I could still get up as early and be as bright! I do try but somehow it just doesn’t happen; why haven’t I inherited my dad’s crack-of-dawn gene?