Hard work and early mornings.

At  the beginning of the summer holiday my (grown) children registered with an agency which has been giving their father temporary, casual work from time to time.  It took a few weeks to process their  paperwork, and the children went on camp for the first week of August, but eventually all was in place and they were ready for the call to start work.
The call came within a couple of days and they started their working lives with a 10 hour shift at a Royal Mail sorting depot.  Whilst they were gone, we had a bit of a chuckle about how they would handle it, especially when we were getting texts saying "Oooh my feet - ouchies"  At the end of their shift, Daddy went to pick them up whilst I prepared a meal for them to come home to.  We expected them to crawl through the door exhausted, and possibly vowing never to go back.  How we underestimated the recuperative power of money.   That and a burst of adrenaline at the end of their shift.  They bounced through the door full of noise and chatter.  Ravenously hungry, they fell on the food I had waiting and devoured it in moments.  It seems however that sitting long enough to eat, perhaps coupled with the diversion of blood flow for digestive purposes, brought the adrenaline fuelled energy surge to the point of collapse and they visibly slumped.  As they had been asked to go back early the next morning they soon trailed off to bed.  Since that day they have only had one day off a week, something which never happened to their father as work was much more scarce when he was working there regularly.  They have managed very well even though they have at times got incredibly tired but the thought of the money they are earning  keeps them going and after they finished work last Friday, they got on a bus outside work and went into Leeds for a shopping trip.  A great deal of their hard earned cash blown in one go. 
For the first time last weekend they worked a shift with their father.  When the shift manager realised the relationship between the three of them, he was singing their praises in lofty tones to Dad, telling him how reliable and hardworking they are, explaining that he could tell them what to do and leave them to it, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't have to check up on them because he could be confident it would be done and done well.  That made us so proud of them!
Until this morning, their shifts have started at 10am at the earliest, some have been 1pm starts and some have been 6pm until 10pm short shifts.  Yesterday however, the managers went round asking for volunteers to start early this morning, he wanted them in for 6am.  Darling daughter rang me to see if I could provide a taxi service, she said she had told him they couldn't start before 7, but in the end I agreed to get them there for 6.30am.  We have to leave 30 minutes before their shift starts to ensure that they get there on time, but this morning when I got up at 5.45 there was no sign of life from daughter's room, although son was obviously up and doing. I had to wake daughter, which is always a risky undertaking - she really is not a morning person - one is in danger of getting one's head bitten clean off.  Getting her up and moving was not easy and for the first time, they were not there on time but as she had told the manager it would be between 6.30 and 7am, hopefully it won't be a problem. If it is, then she will have to deal with it and learn from it.
As we drove to the city, the sun was just coming up, and being low in the sky, it spread everything it touched with a glow of melted butter.  Depressions in flat grassland gave off a mysterious looking, low lying mist which hovered around a foot above the ground, looking as though the earth was steaming through holes in its crust.  It was all so beautiful that it almost made it worthwhile being out at that time.