The Third Day of the Year

'A tranquil but determined start to the new year here.  I had a good bit of time off from work these past few weeks, and I used a lot of it to get some things organized and reorganized in this little apartment.  I have long thought of home-care and decorating and what I call puttering around--fluffing up the throw pillows, changing out the tablecloth, adding the fresh flowers to canning jars, hanging the new-old paintings and embroidered pieces sooner rather than later, refolding the granny square afghans on the backs of the chairs, taking oranges out of their mesh bag and adding them to the green stoneware bowl, even just putting the dishes back where they belong and arranging them neatly on their shelves--as hobbies or pastimes or interests, but I have realized this past month that for me, these little activities are actually a form of self-care.  Eureka!  When we see a woman who has made the extra effort to dress especially nicely, paint her nails, look out for her health and fitness, or [insert-your-own-examples], we think "There is someone who values herself and makes the time to take good care of herself," and I realize now that similarly, when my home is orderly and sweet and cheerful, I feel those things about myself.  When my home is orderly and sweet and cheerful, I feel those things about myself.  Ahhhh!  All the little "puttering around" tasks, then, aren't really chores at all, then, just as I would no longer think of them as one of my hobbies either.  I see now that they're more vital for me than that.  These are ways I take care of myself, I have just learned at 40-and-a-half-years-old:  I go for long walks, I take my vitamins, I try to eat and drink well, I use sunscreen year-round, I pray, I read, I cuddle with Stuffed, I show my love to my loves ones, I slather on lotion, I rest when needed, and I keep an organized and inviting home.  

On that front, I have tackled the bathroom cupboard--and after almost seven years of living here, have wrestled it into submission.  It is about seven feet tall and its three shelves are two feet deep but only twelve inches wide.  Without the shelves, it would be the perfectly-proportioned space to store a broom and mop, but . . .I think I've finally figured it out.  And now hanging vertically on the inside of its door are three narrow cork bulletin boards, my work-schedule, a list of that month's birthdays and other need-to-send-a-card-or-otherwise-mark-a-special-day occasions, a small pink dry-erase board I'm using as my weekly food diary, a basket for pens and dry-erase markers, Stuffed's litter-scoop, a dust pan and broom, and a six-inch-wide calendar I use to record my daily walks.  'A good use now, and better late than never, of that seven-foot tall-but-only-twelve-inch-wide door too.  Take that, Ill-Proportioned Closet.  That alone has made home and life feel so much tidier.  It's What-I-Need-to-Remember Central, and it's a breath of fresh air for this lifelong list-maker:  I have it all in one spot now but tucked away on the back of the door so it doesn't "read" as clutter.  That's been just one improvement lately.  And now that I actually like the cupboard, I want to doll it up even more by papering the small wall-spaces inside the cupboard. . .give it a little more love.  Just like that, it's become a time-saver, a better use of space, and features a door I actually enjoy opening and seeing what's behind.  I myself feel so much more on top of things even with this one project, is the point.  And now that I have a better perspective on it all, I look forward to taking on everything else that's on my around-the-apartment to-do list.  Those to-do items no longer feel like problems or chores ahead of me, but instead opportunities and possibilities.  How good this all feels after watching everything fall apart around here the first seven months with this new job and new work schedule!  Ohhhhh, I love learning.  I love figuring it out.  Life already feels so much better, and 2018 is looking so much brighter.  ♥

I've Waited All Week for This

Ahhhh!  I made it through the past two nights at work, treated myself to both this pretty Primrose and a bottle of ZzzQuil before heading home and climbing into bed this morning, and slept the sleep of the ZzzQuil-drugged:  I woke at 4:00 this afternoon, nine sweet hours later.  Bliss!  A cranberry bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, a salad and almonds for lunch, and later, chili with cornbread for supper.  For the first time since the night after Christmas, my head and eyes feel good enough to let me read again, so I've spent this evening curled up in a blanket-nest in my chair with J.K. Rowling-writing-as-Robert-Galbraith's Career of Evil.  'Am off for the next few days and fully intend to rest as much as possible, alternating books and movies and naps, to get this cold out of my system. 

Sad Sack Looks Forward to April

When I finally got around to treating myself to the Daffodils, the store was out of them and had moved on to other flowers.  And that kind of sums up March So Far.  There was also the moment Monday night when after what seemed like three weeks straight of  my bumbling through life like Sad Sack, I was washing dishes and noticed how beautiful it all was:  The grooved orange cereal bowl, the curvy bottle of pink (pink!) dish liquid (Palmolive "Soft Touch" with Vitamin E [it's lovely]), the mounds of sparkling soap suds, the green plaid dish cloth. . . .It was all so colorful and so pretty, and the sink smelled rich from the soap, and my hands were warm in the water, and finally, finally, my mood lifted.  I breathed it all in and thought about how lucky I was, how blessed, really, to be able to enjoy such a moment.  And I told myself to laugh off the absurdities and blunders of the past few weeks, to make amends where needed, and to go ahead and just declare this March over already and start anew.  I even imagined myself writing about it here, the rainbow of dishes in the sink and the rainbows on bubbles in the soap suds and the gift of--and the life-long lesson in--seeing beauty where others see a mess.  I had the blog post half-composed in my head when, lost in my revelry, I somehow squeezed the sink's hose nozzle and sprayed myself full-on in the face.  Water up my nose, water flooding my eyes, water dripping out of my hair, water trickling from my face down into my bra. . . .And so March continued.  You really do just have to laugh.

The month's best laugh came from Stuffed, however, who decided to help us do our taxes Sunday afternoon.

He had seen paper clips many times before, so I don't know what the fascination was Sunday, but he went to this clipped pile of Mike's tax forms over and over and over, looking ever more shark-like each time he approached the pile.  This is a ten-second clip, but this went on for about an hour before we took the papers away from him a final time and settled down to the thrill that is tax-prep, and we laughed until we ached every time he ran off with them.  God bless curious little cats.  ♥