I think I need to step back and get a grip on organization. Today, I felt like time just ran away.
I blame the weather: just warm enough to work outside.
I blame spinach and tomatoes. We want to plant both. Soon. We need to clear the strip of land behind the barn of weeds. I begin that project today. It takes forever, even with the help of Ed, Dance the cat, and the cheepers.
I blame having to wash the squid with soap. We had a grocery delivery today and it included squid. Snowdrop loves squid with her spaghetti. The squid needed a soap bath. It took forever to then get the bubbles out of the tubes and tentacles.
I blame the fact that I was convinced I had tossed my driver's license out with the trash. It had been in a paper bag. Precautions. Don't ask. And then it was nowhere. How do you replace a driver's license if you're self-isolating? I dumped all trash out of the can (there was a lot) in my search for it. I looked in every possible corner of the farmhouse.
I began to sweat.
Only later did I remember that I had tucked it into a pocket of my purse for safe keeping.
People like me thrive on getting a lot done on automatic pilot. For example, typically, I grocery shop without a list. I know what to put in the cart. It doesn't change a whole lot from week to week. But of course, now everything is newly established. Routines don't work anymore. You have to think your way through the day.
That's a challenge!
Mostly, I blame me. Too loose on the organization. Do better!
(Was there time for breakfast? Yes of course.)
In the afternoon, Snowdrop is with us.
(Playing the memory game once again. He wins. Then she wins, even though to me, it seems that she's hardly paying attention...)
Evening. It is always the quietest time here, at the farmhouse. Perhaps in your home as well? I cook up some salmon burgers and I steam a treasured bunch of fresh asparagus.
Ed cooks up popcorn. We listen to the sound of the rain outside.
I blame the weather: just warm enough to work outside.
I blame spinach and tomatoes. We want to plant both. Soon. We need to clear the strip of land behind the barn of weeds. I begin that project today. It takes forever, even with the help of Ed, Dance the cat, and the cheepers.
I blame having to wash the squid with soap. We had a grocery delivery today and it included squid. Snowdrop loves squid with her spaghetti. The squid needed a soap bath. It took forever to then get the bubbles out of the tubes and tentacles.
I blame the fact that I was convinced I had tossed my driver's license out with the trash. It had been in a paper bag. Precautions. Don't ask. And then it was nowhere. How do you replace a driver's license if you're self-isolating? I dumped all trash out of the can (there was a lot) in my search for it. I looked in every possible corner of the farmhouse.
I began to sweat.
Only later did I remember that I had tucked it into a pocket of my purse for safe keeping.
People like me thrive on getting a lot done on automatic pilot. For example, typically, I grocery shop without a list. I know what to put in the cart. It doesn't change a whole lot from week to week. But of course, now everything is newly established. Routines don't work anymore. You have to think your way through the day.
That's a challenge!
Mostly, I blame me. Too loose on the organization. Do better!
(Was there time for breakfast? Yes of course.)
In the afternoon, Snowdrop is with us.
(Playing the memory game once again. He wins. Then she wins, even though to me, it seems that she's hardly paying attention...)
Evening. It is always the quietest time here, at the farmhouse. Perhaps in your home as well? I cook up some salmon burgers and I steam a treasured bunch of fresh asparagus.
Ed cooks up popcorn. We listen to the sound of the rain outside.
