Mellow mornings

The morning ritual ;)

The best thing about the kids being back to school are my newly rediscovered mornings. I have never been a morning person and it has been ridiculously easy to slip into waking closer to noon than to dawn over the holidays. However, after almost ten years of sending kids to school, I have begrudgingly reconciled myself to the 6:30 am alarm during the school year.

More often than not, R takes the kids to school and I quickly return to my deliciously cool Frette sheets- but as a concession to Ramazan I do the school run as I don't fast. And I must admit I have come to love the moment when I go around opening windows and doors, letting the early morning cool in and disturbing whole flocks of cheerful little songbirds. Mornings, especially monsoon mornings, are stunningly beautiful in Karachi. The sky is a wonderful steely grey, the leaves of the giant neem rustle in the breeze and the air is fragrant with newly-bloomed passion flowers.

The daily schedule keeper

Even the school run is fun- little Hatim is often at his cheeriest and most loquacious early in the day and it's a good time to make plans for the whole day- organize various activities and play-dates and catch up on the school gossip. On my solitary way home I am kept entertained by the lovely Khalid of City FM 89's Breakfast Show.

Back home, I take a leisurely stroll around the freshly-watered garden, picking a few flowers to put in various little vases and bowls around the house and checking to see if there is anything else to "harvest"- most of our fruit trees are still young, but there is an occasional offering or two, and maybe a few sprigs of herbs and a cherry tomato or two. Here are a few snaps of today's finds:

Baby zinnias in my favorite orange

Home-grown chikoos and sharifas and a fennel frond

Stephanotis vines discovered outside the boys' room

My favorite early morning coffee spot these days is the upstairs balcony; as I sit sipping my coffee and trying to read the paper, I am distracted by koels cooing and I am reminded of the Karachi mornings of my childhood. My sister and I would come down early in our uniforms and wait for the driver to come and take us to school. Our grandfather would be standing in the garden in his white kurta pajama watering the lawn with a hose pipe- doing a nifty little trick with his thumb that would make the water dance around in arcs to the joyful accompaniment of little birdies. Our grandmother would go around collecting her own shareefas, wrapping them up in newspaper to ripen safely, saving them for her beloved sons. 

Have a great weekend, and leave me a comment!