31 Things: Starting the Day

© Sophia Roberts

I rarely need to use an alarm.  And you can bet your bottom dollar that if I do set one  – and if it wakes me - it will be one of those rare occasions when I could have slept longer.  If I’m lucky, I sleep for five or six hours a night (with a big 'catch up once a week, because I'm so exhausted), which isn’t really enough; but, as I rarely awake feeling refreshed, I don’t think the length of time I’m unconscious is significant.  There’s neither rhyme nor reason to it. 

I used to sleep really well and once my head hit the pillow I was out: like a light.  Unfortunately sleep gets more fragile with age and during the last few years I’ve begun suffering with sleep maintenance insomnia. 

When I worked full-time it was a different story.  Sleep was a luxury that I didn't get enough of - not that I promoted it: I burnt my candles at both ends – and in the middle.  In those days the only way I ensured that I got up and out of bed, and on the way to work, was to put the alarm clock on the other side of the room; it meant that I had to get out of bed - to switch it off.  I did not go back to bed, for obvious reasons (!)

The first thing I do on waking is to look at my smartphone to check my emails and I sometimes write a couple of sentences.  This will take about five minutes at most.  Years ago, if I was on holiday – or had no reason to get up - I would pray, first thing, and very occasionally read for a while.  

But it was more usual, as now, to get up immediately.  I have never enjoyed just lying around in bed – in fact I have a deep resistance to going to bed in the first place!  I’m not convinced I’m an owl, though – I like being up early in the morning and going to bed late.

My mobility is very bad for the first couple of hours, so I am staggering around like a drunk until my body catches on that my brain is telling it, “This is the way we walk.”  I take my medication and immediately head for the kitchen.  I drink a large glass of orange juice (diluted with water) and put the kettle on.  Whilst I wait for it to boil I eat a couple of Digestive biscuits.  I then carry my two mugs of tea (don’t ask!) outside and sit on the back porch to enjoy the view and cogitate. I do this, whatever the weather, winter or summer; and no matter where I am.  I have mild claustrophobia and spend as much time out of doors as I can. 

When I worked I still had two cups of tea, but I didn’t manage to get outside until I began my journey to work.  I have always been lucky enough that my place of work has been within walking distance.  This is not just because I have never driven; it’s because of where I have lived, up until now: in small towns or in city centers.  This walking time used to give me a good ten to fifteen minutes to clear my head.  I really needed this space and used to decline offers of lifts to work even if it was raining or snowing.  It was that important.

And then - as now - after my morning constitutional, I was set up and ready for whatever the day was going to throw at me.

My thanks to Ali Edwards for this prompt.

31 Things: Rings

I wear necklaces, bracelets and brooches if the occasion demands it; but I never go out without I wear a pair of earrings, two crosses - worn on a very long chain beneath my blouse - and one of two wrist watches; and three rings: two on my right hand and one on my left. 

The only ring I can remember my mother wearing was a chunky plastic one – which may be doing her an injustice.  But, I don’t think she cared that much for traditional jewellery. The woman who did wear some jewellery in our family was my maternal grandmother. However, the only ring my grandmother wore was her wedding ring, which she couldn’t remove, because her hands were crippled with arthritis. 

For many years I wouldn’t have dreamt of wearing silver and gold jewellery together; it was a fashion rule. This was a very convenient – if expensive – rule to follow because I didn’t like silver or even own anything silver. I say expensive, because I have never liked anything imitation and gold was no exception. It had to be the real thing or nothing. 

I don’t remember when it happened, but at some point I decided that “I prefer silver now, and not gold.” Maybe it coincided with a mid-life crisis; or maybe at some point I decided that silver, or platinum was classier.  Whatever; I could now afford to own any number of earrings (which I was forever losing) and bracelets – even rings if I wanted to - simply because they were so much cheaper than their gold counterparts,

But this was the moment that that rule about mixing metals went out of the window: silver bracelets and bangles looked good on me, but silver rings did not. No matter how much I wanted to go for an all-silver look, it wasn’t to be. Fantasy hit reality when even the salesgirl, who was desperate to sell me a heavy silver ring, had to concede that silver didn’t suit me.

So, when I married again it was going to have to be a couple of gold rings, and that being the case I knew I wanted an engagement ring set with a red garnet. But, once again, the colour of my skin let me down – a garnet didn’t look right on me. Instead we chose an amethyst in an unusual filigree setting together with a wedding ring in the shape of a wishbone; the contours were a match made in heaven. 

Emma Lee

And despite my dream of having an engagement ring to die for, my fiancé only had to hand over a mere £40 (it was on special offer!) 

Emma Roberts

After a civil ceremony these rings, which I wore on my left hand, told the secular world that I was a married woman. 

Sophia Roberts

The plain gold 18 carat band, with which I was married in church, six weeks later, I wear on my right hand (I’m an Eastern Orthodox Christian). 

Wedding of Anthony and Sophia Roberts

I had all three rings blessed. 

This was the arrangement until we went to Wales for the first time, six years later. We were so delighted with Wales that T bought me a ring that had been designed and made in the heart of Wales. I chose a moonstone (no amethyst available), because a diamond would have made what we intended to be merely a holiday souvenir prohibitively expensive. However, after we came home, I considered that my engagement ring had become perilously thin, so I took the opportunity to replace it - and the secular wedding ring - with my new Welsh ring.

On my right hand, just above my wedding ring is another Welsh ring - an eternity ring. We bought this on our next trip to Wales, the following September.  As our wedding anniversary wasn’t until July I knew I had a wait on my hands (!) But, my very romantic husband took my hand, in the early hours of a May morning, just as the first light of Easter emerged from the sanctuary, and slipped the eternity ring over the fourth finger of my right hand. It may not have been theologically appropriate, but it was a wonderful gesture.

I am grateful to Ali Edwards for this prompt.