Two Cents Worth
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I lead a busy life or at least my interpretation of busy.
It may not seem busy to everyone, but to me I am occupied and accomplishing what needs doing at my own speed and doing what I choose to do.
Each week I spend a day at the Senior Centre and sometimes more if they need me. Marlene and I go out for lunch every week, and at least once a week I have coffee and visit with friends. Sometimes I am off to Woodstock, London, Simcoe or wherever for important meetings or just for fun. On Sunday I go to church and pick up a few groceries.
I do a lot of running so when I get a day at home I thoroughly enjoy it, although I often wonder where the time went and what I did all day. I paint, read, draw floor plans, do computer work and putter. I am very good at puttering. It’s an art.
No need for an alarm, up between 7 and 8 a.m. most mornings. After brushing my teeth and pulling a brush through my hair I might notice the sink needs a wipe so I spray all fixtures with some cleaner or other leaving it to soak while I put the coffee on and check emails, stopping on the way back to the kitchen to give a quick scrub.
I turn on the TV to check what is going on in the world while I enjoy my first coffee before I do my 20 minutes of what I affectionately call exercise. It’s mostly dancing but I get my old heart racing. I start breakfast. I use the old-fashioned rolled oats that have to cook for a lot more than a minute so while standing in the kitchen, drinking my coffee and stirring, I might replenish the water in the fridge and wipe the fridge shelf while I am at it. Or I take the burners off the stove and put them in to soak or re-arrange and wipe out a cupboard or put away the accumulated pile of recipes on the table. I shift things around in the fridge freezer or dig around in the chest freezer for something for supper. I might get garbage ready to take to the garage or the road.
It’s bad but I do eat breakfast in front of the TV and watch the news of the day. I might draw a floor plan or read an article in a magazine over another cup of coffee before I put the stove back together and wash the dishes - by hand, no dishwasher. Back to the office to answer emails and work on a column.
I check the clock and it’s like 2:30 p.m. and I am still in my nightgown. Where did the morning go? That’s puttering.
Much of the afternoon is spent the same. I might get dressed (or not), do some sorting in a closet, have a little snooze, change the beds, vacuum and/or dust, look through a travel magazine or catalogue I got in the mail, do some ironing, make a cup of tea, watch a bit of TV, draw some more or snack on some cheese. Before you know it, it’s time to cook supper.
Now, I don’t do all of that every day, maybe one or two as the day progresses. I used the words, “might” and “or.” In winter I might shovel some snow and in summer cut the grass, too, but not every day. There just isn’t any reason to rush. I’ve realized it just doesn’t gain you anything but anxiety.
Like Scarlet O’Hara once said, “Tomorrow is another day.”