moving things around (or: one more drippy, gray day)

Ed doesn't really keep to a schedule. If it weren't for Snowdrop's visits to the farmhouse (soon to be supplemented by Sparrow's visits here) and Sunday family dinners, he would not readily distinguish a weekday from a weekend day. (To add to the time obfuscation, he often does not distinguish night from day, choosing to work on projects late into the night, catching up on sleep in daylight hours.) Even when he worked what one might regard as "full time," there was no schedule. He was the master of his own time, getting things done when he felt the push to do so (rather than because of the dictates of a calendar or of someone towering above him).

Me, I like the progression of named days. I like distinguishing my Monday tasks from Friday duties. I get up at dawn and feel sleepy every day at the same latish hour. Retirement should have freed me from feeling bound to a schedule, but the grandkids roped me right back into it and honestly, that feels normal to me. I keep an eye on the clock to see how much time is left before I have to pick up a child. That's how my day unfolds.

Today, though, things are a little off. Oh, breakfast is normal. Still in the morning, still in the kitchen.





But afterwards, I feel compelled to do some tampering with what's normal. We're in a month where Ed ought to be pushed on some needed farmette jobs. We make a list for him. It's not short. And me -- well, I'm going to Chicago tomorrow and so grocery shopping has to be done earlier. That's easy. I shop today. But there is, too, the challenge of this October. I'm home, I'm not home. The kids come, the kids go. I need to prepare for all this, even as the days grow shorter and colder and winter is coming and there's much to be done that's very predictable, very seasonal, very ordinary.

In other words, there's a lot going on. And yet, the hours pass, and Ed dozes on the couch, and I play with Snowdrop. But here's another irregularity: for the first time since the girl began dance class, she does not want to go. She feels off. Normally, I would push back against a child's hesitancy, but something tells me that today she should stay home (farmhouse home!) and take it easy. I consult with her dad (mom's out of town) and with his agreement, she and I return to the slower pace of reading, building, reading some more.


(listening for her mommy's presence in a locket...)






 (farmette arrival)






(making friends with Little Gray...)












I'm thinking -- we are stuck in our core habits. Ed moves at his own pace, I move in very many baby steps and that's the way it is and imagining that we'll suddenly adhere to new and different patterns is... not very realistic.

So, a day that's slightly recalibrated, a little off schedule, a tiny bit out of alignment, but in the end, one that isn't out of character at all.