Who stays awake when they could sleep to their heart\u2019s content?
\nPregnant women, dog lovers, fans of reading in sleeping homes, those who delight in wandering through dewy early-morning meadows\u2026<\/p>\n
And someone who didn\u2019t used to sleep, but now perches on a little cloud and watches us with wonder, my Grandma.
\nOn summer Sundays, she would rise early to iron Grandpa\u2019s festive trousers, press her day-off scarf with the iron, and make it to early mass\u2014after first feeding her chickens, who never liked to sleep.<\/p>\n
On early summer Sunday mornings, my Mom is the first to wake.
\nQuietly slipping out of the \u201cfortress\u201d of grandchildren resting after a day of adventures, she fills the house with the smell of freshly made pancakes, stacking them into a tall tower that will soon disappear once the \u201carmy\u201d of messy-haired kids wakes up.<\/p>\n
7:00 a.m. Sunday.
\nA morning without an alarm.
\nEyes still small and sleepy.
\nI feel the first little kicks in my belly.
\n\u201cMy heart captain is probably stretching,\u201d I smile to myself.
\nAt the movement from my chest, the new little house resident\u2014the \u201cbaby dog\u201d\u2014perks up.<\/p>\n
Silently, the two of us slip out of the sleeping house.
\nThe kettle whistles.
\nMy companion\u2019s breakfast bowl clatters.
\nAfter a slow breakfast, we lock the door and head across the meadows.
\nThey are dewy.
\nAfter yesterday\u2019s polka with the rams and the rain, the forest smells of an indescribable freshness.
\nWild strawberries bloom by the roadside.
\nTiny lingonberry flowers carpet the ground.
\nWild poppies have begun to bloom.
\nLupines raise their purple tails.<\/p>\n
After a long walk, in the silence of Sunday, we return.
\nI carry a sweet little bouquet of meadow flowers in my hands.
\nAnd in my heart, the feeling that it\u2019s so early, yet so many good emotions have already been gathered.
\nBefore my eyes steams a freshly baked new day.
\nCoffee unfinished, a breathtakingly beautiful book lying beside it.<\/p>\n
I sway gently on the terrace and think:
\nHow wonderful that I didn\u2019t sleep through all of this.<\/p>\n
Lover of dogs, books, and dewy meadows,
\nV.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"template":"","class_list":["post-17614","istorija","type-istorija","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija\/17614","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/istorija"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/istorija"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17614"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}