This is one thing I’ve learned over the years: pace myself.
Used to be I’d give myself a long list of jobs to accomplish every day. Then I’d be on the go till bedtime.
Can’t do that anymore. Or maybe I still could, but don’t want to. I no longer push myself to the limits of my energy and end up tired and possibly cranky like some people I know. Not mentioning any names, but … you probably know who you are!
So it’s one “extra effort” a day (besides dishes and all the other putzing).
On Friday I went to town and stopped at three places. I took the rest of the day off.
Yesterday I baked six loaves of whole wheat bread and did two loads of laundry.
Today I made a huge vat of granola that will be a staple here for a month.
Tomorrow: more laundry and a batch of Frances’s Eatmore Bars.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday: working from home. Grateful to have a job that permits it.
Friday: Another four-day weekend begins. I have the life o’ Reilly. Or is it Riley?
I’m not particularly ambitious, but I sure enjoy my days. And evenings, which are for doing nothing at all. I might put away the leftovers, stack the dishes and wipe the kitchen counters, but I don’t often have my foremothers’ discipline for getting the dishes done every night. I’m content if I get them done after breakfast and keep them done during the day, quite often while making supper so there aren’t so many to be done after. Then if I don’t feel like standing at the sink, I leave them till morning. I love being the boss of me.
We went for a short drive this afternoon. Scott thought I could join him to go into his mother’s house for a little visit, as he checks on her daily and makes sure she has everything she needs. He thought I could stay at the opposite side of the room from where she’s sitting, like he does.
I’d love to see her, but I’m not doing that. When they say “Stay home,” they don’t mean go to your 80-year-old mother-in-law’s home for a chat from a distance. They mean STAY AWAY altogether.
This isn’t easy to grasp, I swear. For a moment, as he told me it would be safe, I was considering it. Then: No. It’s exactly what we’re being asked NOT to do.
I worked for an hour (why not? an hour goes by like 20 minutes) while Scott made a simple supper (meat and potatoes, of course) and afterwards we watched a two-episode Endeavour, that luscious lad. By then it was 8:45 and we were both ready for bed. Can you believe it! We hardly can.
But especially at this time, it’s wise to listen to our bodies. Scott’s in bed already and I’m on my way. I may lie there and read a while, but it’s still resting.
Some days I can hardly believe anyone keeps reading these entries. So run of the mill! So everyday! So — so — same as everyone else’s days! No conflict, no drama — it would make a dull novel, that’s for sure.
80 YEARS AGO
March 27, 1940
I.O.D.E. doing much war work. The shipment of war work sent to headquarters was described by Mrs. A.A. Brunsdon, who reported that the package contained 157 articles of knitting and sewing.
–Wadena News, Looking Back