The Joy of Working

It has been an incredibly productive week here in my home office. .

I have tended to monthly and quarterly tasks. I have successfully called three different departments at Revenue Canada and not only did I not have to hold, each and every question and concern I had was addressed, answered and solved within a ten to fifteen minute call. 

As I tidied up the clutter of the month, I had time left to work on a few of the lingering jobs that have been taking up space on my work table and in my mind. It is amazing what energy comes from cleaning the work slate on a few levels.

I feel more energetic and I do believe I have the motivation required to get me through one of the bigger tasks I have left to tend. I can envision the space created within my work week once that job is complete. 

I woke up with ambition this morning. The motivation that is bubbling up inside of me is taking me outside my home office door and I am seeing the light.

Since COVID-19 arrived on the scene, I have been doing little more than tending to my own self preservation.

I have not been a supportive friend or family member. I have not been reaching out. I have been hunkering down and managing my own little world.

I have not taken on any COVID projects, big or small. I haven't cleaned a closet. I haven't reorganized our home ... except maybe I did a just a little. The weekend our new book shelves were installed was definitely a Coronavirus highlight. But the weight of the work within my office-with-a-door has been weighing me down and holding me captive to the responsibilities lying in wait.

I have not found time in this "isolation" to dig deep, go quiet, hear my inner voice guiding me where I need to go next. 

We are almost four months in to our changed world and I have yet to feel isolated. 

When stay at home recommendations arose on the scene I thought this was exactly the kind of holiday I have always hoped for. Time off work with no where to be but home. It was a dream come true. Then my work moved in with me and it has taken us four months to establish healthy boundaries and come to terms with each other.

Now that I finally know my roommate a little better, I am finally in a place to settle in and enjoy being home. Just in time for the world to open up again. 

Do you ever feel like you are always ten steps behind the times? Me too. 

Observations

Is it just me? Or are others noticing things they have never seen before as we navigate our course through this coronavirus era?

I have never had dry wrists before. Apparently I've been washing my hands wrong all these years. Moisturizing my hands up and beyond my wrists is becoming my new normal.

All the added hand washing has led to much more time in front of the mirror. I have decided to wear eyeliner "just for me". I don't like the look of myself much to start with, but the lack of "eyes" makes it harder to accept my appearance as it is.

Speaking of my appearance, all this mirror-gazing has led me to the decision to dye my roots after all. There is a LOT of gray throughout my head of hair. Vanity swoops in for the save.

I've been battling a sore eye for three weeks now. I sleep with eye drops at my side so I can hydrate my eyes when they wake up dry and sore in the middle of the night. I finally thought I was on the other side of the sore-eye-syndrome until I decided to put on eye liner after the weekend. My eye soreness resumed almost immediately. Is there a connection? I'll experiment another day. I have the time.

I have started dressing up for my day job. Primarily because not only have I outgrown my jeans (this was prior to self isolating), but my yoga pants are even tight! My new exercise regimen of walking to the printer numerous times throughout the day may make a difference in the long run. But for now? My dress pants are the only comfortable attire I own. The bonus is, I feel better about the way I look when I find myself in front of the mirror (again), washing my hands.

I find myself gazing out the living room window throughout my days, which has actually created some excitement about making time for window washing this weekend. I have disciplined myself to work within my allotted work hours, otherwise I may be tempted to squeeze this task into my work day like I used to putter at little household and yard tasks during my Daycare Days.

There is no multitasking in the bookkeeping world. You work or you don't. I choose to work. I am so very grateful for the job I have. In fact, I can honestly say I LIKE what I am doing. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize this. Chores can wait. I am so pleased to actually be looking forward to tackling something outside of my home office.

I am seeing life through a new filter. Since I'm home so much, the incentive to tackle the yard work and housework is higher than usual. It is less of an item to stroke off my eternal to-do-list and more of an incentive in improving my daily scenery.

It's going to be a busy weekend. Hair coloring, window washing and raking. The trick will be to do this in the right order. I'm not so bored that I choose to deal with the aftermath of washing my hair more than one time during my days off.

What is coming into focus for you as you make your way through this time of self-isolation, social distancing and extra-curricular hand washing?

I am grateful for a life that is so unaffected by all that is going on within this world of ours, that I can waste my energy pondering such inane thoughts. I've always appreciated living within this safe little bubble I call my life. As we walk further into the days of COVID-19 pandemic, I am grateful. So grateful for what I have.

I'm Off to See My Sisters!!!

I am headed off to see my sisters today. I am energized and excited knowing "this" is what I have to look forward to this weekend!

I woke up at 5:30 this morning with the thought "You won't get this time back" chiming through my thoughts. Then I fast forwarded to the day I saw before me. I want to feel rested and restored. I thought this thought and got up an hour later. Good enough! There were things I wanted to do before I leave.

I can tell where my state of mind is at by how I define the "hard things" I must do in a day. This morning, I knocked off those little tasks off my list and had energy to spare so I cleaned up my car a little.

Oh car of mine, what to do? What to do??

This car and I have bonded over the course of the last 61,000+ kms together. This is the car that drove me through "The Year of Mom". Oh, the hours we have spent together. The sister trips back and forth to Mom's. The music that has spoken to me through the radio during every season of my life. I've grown rather fond of this set of wheels.

My mechanic planted a seed of doubt when I last saw him. He told me what repair to expect next. I can most likely drive a long while before I must decide what course of action I must take but he's got me thinking. A new-to-me car? Or do I keep fixing this one?

It's hard on gas. It has blind spots where I feel I can't see properly. It is just a little larger than I would like. It still carries the scars from the hit and run accident while it was sitting there minding its own business while I was at work. 

But I like it. I have grown to trust it. I do not want to spend money on a vehicle (home renovation and maintenance is where it's "at" for me!).

As I vacuumed and tidied up my car, I couldn't help but think of the good times we've shared. Where do we go from here? I'm grateful I don't have to decide right away. I want to drive off into the sunset with my trusty steed and simply let things fall where they may.

I am anticipating my drive today. I can't wait to hit the road and steer myself towards my sisters. The one and only thing that could make this day any better? If it included our brother. Maybe next time ...

I'm off to see my sisters! And oh, what a day we will have!!!

Spent

Visions of staining, washing windows and lawn mowing filled my thoughts during my restless sleep last night. So much to do. So little weekend. I got up at 5:30 in the hopes of squeezing everything into one day.

I gave myself the gift of the morning to do what I wanted to do, breathe easy and take what I needed from the morning. It was lovely. Three hours of morning time is my daily norm. I have been lacking normalcy this past week. Three hours felt lovely.

After the clock struck the end of my three hour hiatus it was only 8:30. The hardware store which stocks the miracle deck painting brush opened at 8:30. I was there.

Deck staining was to be done in the shade. Our deck isn't shaded until late afternoon so I started the day by washing windows. Scraping paint off said windows and window casings took a little added time and made me ponder the idea that professional painters should offer to wash windows after their work is done.

Window washing has been long overdue around here. It feels wonderful to have squeaky clean windows. Ahhh!

Then came the lawn. I have shirked lawn mowing duties around here for two weeks so I felt it was my turn to step up to the lawn mower. And I did.

Pulling weeds, sweeping up paint chips and scraping off plaster/crack-filler off the driveway took the last of the energy I had. Rain is in the forecast within the next 24 hour period so I was relieved to stroke "stain the deck" off today's roster of events.

I don't accomplish what I used to in a day. I feel slow and sluggish. I look at our five year old cat who moves slowly and sluggishly and I see "me". This same cat can't jump 6 ft fences in a single bound any more. He can't even jump onto the 3-1/2 ft deck railing without engaging his front claws and using his back legs to climb up. He uses the top ladder rung when jumping onto the decking of the kid's play centre we have in the back yard.

I was telling my son that our cat reminds me of myself. "Maybe he has arthritis," I added wistfully. My son just chuckled and said, "No, he's gained a lot of weight." Oh. Me too.

I share an affinity with our Junior Cat in residence. We've both slowed down prematurely. We've both packed on extra poundage. We both love leisurely cat days.

Who's to argue with that. I accomplished enough for one day. The evening is mine, to do with as I please. I do believe it pleases me to laze around with the cats. My 5 a.m. mornings are catching up with me.

Speaking of "73"

As the number 73 rolled in and around and through my thoughts this morning, I remembered one more fun fact. Today is Cher's 73rd birthday.

My sister and I will be going to see Cher in three days. We will sit back and marvel at what "73" looks like on Cher. I am prepared to be amazed.

I have a feeling even my very ambitious mother couldn't hold a candle to Cher's performance on stage (I can hear her raspy voice reply, "Nor would I want to!"). In the same token, I wonder if Cher could have kept up with Mom's ambition levels (I've still got your back, Mom).

I listened to an interview with Cher as she spoke about her current tour. She mentioned (I'm paraphrasing here so this is not exactly what she said) that she gives her all when she is on stage but the moment she is out of the spotlight, she is in recovery mode. Judging by her past performances, she doesn't have very long recovery periods yet she continues to go back "on" and in full performance mode.

As I wrote of Mom's ambition, motivation and perseverance at the age of 73 being akin to a marathon and my tendency to simply take on life in short 100 yard dashes (then rest and recoup) ... I wonder if Cher and I may have something in common after all...

I remember the way the music of the 70's seeped into my entire heart and soul at my 35th high school reunion. I danced like no one was watching. People commented on "how fit I was" at the time. Yes, that was six years ago. No, I haven't done much to maintain that level of fitness. But I remember the feeling well. My heart began to beat to the beat of the music and I was the music. The music was me.

I wonder if that is how Cher feels when she is singing and dancing to the beat of the music that has been a part of her existence for the past 60+ years.

73 ... 73 ... 73 ...

The number 73 is still speaking to me today. Happy Birthday, Cher!!

73

As my ambition levels ebb and flow like my moods, I was giving myself a good talking to this morning. "What is wrong with you?", I asked myself.

How old was Mom when she took the bull by the horns and simply started ripping up carpet after the Great Flood of 2001 saturated my brother's newly acquired home? I did some mental calculations and came up with the number "73".

73 ... 73 ... 73 ...

The number kept repeating through my mind. I thought of Mom's ambition and willingness to take on most any task.

I thought of Mom at my age and I am embarrassed. I don't hold a candle to what Mom accomplished at my age and older.

I think of my sisters and their work ethic, their ambition and energy. They take after Mom. I think of my brother who holds down a full time job, yet he still takes on home and yard maintenance at the end of his days and weeks. He has Dad's qualities.

I was trying to give myself a pass and reminded myself that my sisters and brother are all married. Does having a spouse to share the financial, physical and emotional load make a difference? Then again, I thought of Mom. She was on her own after the age of 55 until the end of her days. My lack of spouse theory doesn't hold water.

I think of Dad at my age and he was hospitalized with a debilitating heart attack days before his 58th birthday. Have I mentally capped out at the age Dad was when we lost him? Is this mental fatigue or am I simply lazy?

My moods are subject to the ebbs and flows of the moon, life in general and perhaps I'm hard wired this way. It shouldn't surprise me that my ambition levels mirror these hills and valleys.

What I do know to be true, is that work, accomplishing something and simply taking the next forward step is the best way out and through these doldrums.

Yet, here I sit. I am listening to the shinglers up on my roof toiling away and literally taking care of the roof over my head. The ambition will come. I can feel it bubbling up inside of me. But right now? In this moment? I am comforted in the knowledge our roof is in good hands. Taking care of the basics helps one weather the storms ahead. Not that I see any storms in my forecast, but that knowledge is key. 

Life is a marathon. I think I have treated it like a 100 yard dash. My ambition comes in waves and then I wonder why I'm exhausted in the aftermath. If I'm going to attain the stamina Mom had at the age of 73, slow and steady is the way to go. Just. Don't. Stop.

Staircase to Destiny

I have noticed a shifting of the tides as extreme budgeting is my focus and rules my decisions. The less I have, the richer I feel. That sounds like a contradiction but to me it makes perfect sense.

When money isn't an object, I spend freely and there always seems to be a quiet ache for that which is just barely out of reach. While I am in a spending mode, I never have quite enough because I'm always wanting for just a little bit more than I have.

What I have found during this Time of Great Restraint is that there is very little (other than the ongoing need to buy groceries, gas, pay the bills and maintain that which we already have) that I actually want for. We have so much, that we are selling, giving and throwing away much of what we already have.

We have moved so much "stuff" out of this house and I am still feeling slightly overwhelmed at the fact that there are so many untouched rooms, closets and drawers yet to go. Not to mention the garage and playhouse. I can't even think about my memory boxes and paperwork.

As I have waded through the excess, I have often found myself wondering "How sparsely can we live?"

At one point this past year I made the offer to pack up and move out to Mom's if she would have felt more comfortable with another adult living under her roof. I woke up with the idea one morning and it made perfect sense.

I am at a stage of my life where I'm ready to make a change, I'm flexible, my children are adults and almost fully independent. Almost. The word that changed everything. Almost independent.

Yes, my youngest son is "almost" there. So close, but yet so far.

As I've been wading through the belongings within our home I keep mentioning my idea of living downstairs and renting out the main floor. Or variations of that idea. Conversations with my youngest son aren't what they used to be. But I keep chattering and I am always just a little bit surprised that he is still listening after all of these years.

I got talking about retirement living and Mom's take on the concept. I told my son how Mom felt about it and how much she wants to keep living independently in her home. And because that is so important to her, I told my son "that" is part of the reason I want to change what I'm doing. If it ever comes to the point where Mom cannot live alone, I want to be able to be flexible enough to move out to help.

We had this conversation while I was assisting him in putting his items up for sale this week. My actions are starting to rub off on him and he has joined me on this mission to lighten the load around here. He cleared out a tremendous amount of his belongings. One garbage bag full of garbage, several giveaway items and he listed more items for sale. His total proceeds after two weeks is $103.50 so he is accumulating a little spending money for his efforts. He ended up with an entire storage container emptied out, an empty drawer and a few empty shelves. He utilized one empty shelf to display some of his creative works and yesterday he said he wanted to get rid of this project from his theatre arts class:

I listed it on Kijiji under "Free Stuff" and it has been re-homed as of 7:00 this morning.

Change is in the air within our little world. I am actively reshuffling my life and in the process, my son has joined me.

I'm not too good at this "adult parenting" thing. There is a fine line between "when to push", "when to back off", "when to but in", "when to quietly suggest" and know "what to say".

Perhaps this was a very good time for me to upend my world. I hope I'm modelling the fact that "change" is terrifying but necessary. Sometimes we have no idea where things are going to go but we know they cannot stay as they are and have been.

I'm wandering through my days in survival mode. Cut backs in spending have been almost imperceptible. In fact, I am thinking maybe I haven't cut back at all because life feels very, very comfortable at the moment.

I have accidentally stumbled into a place where I needed to be. Now that my conversations with my son are not about strategies, tools, ideas and coping mechanisms about how to survive in my role as a daycare provider, we have started talking about new and different things. Our conversations made it easier to recognize what to say, when to say it and where to gently push.

It's going to be okay. We are building wings here under this roof of ours. It's hard work. We need room to fly, so we are making it. I was lost in how to parent this almost independent child of mine and I accidentally stumbled onto a way to make room for conversations to happen, brainstorming to take place and open up a whole wide world of possibilities.

The quiet place of "knowing" has not yet occurred but each and every day, waking up and simply doing "the next right thing" is helping us find our way. One step in a forward direction will start to take us where we need to go.

My deep rooted quest to simplify, live small and create a world where I could pack myself up and move exactly where I need to be seems to be at the root of every move I make.  Part of what I need to move forward, is to help my son find his wings. We are lightening our loads and we will soon be able to fly.

There is a richness that has seeped into our living that money can't buy. It comes from letting go of what doesn't matter, holding onto what is important, building and rebuilding and maintaining the foundation of our home (which is less about repairing windows, weather stripping and teeth and more about family) and taking one small step in a forward direction. One step at a time. We are doing this. We don't know where our staircase is leading but there is a sense of "knowing" that we are headed in the right direction.

"Trade your expectation for appreciation and the world changes instantly." ~ Tony Robbins

Less Clutter = More Energy

I think I'm finally starting to see the light at the end of the excess. These pictures ONLY show one toy zone within our house. There are several more. But this area has been the bane of my existence and one of my reasons for not wanting to clean for far too long. In fact, how can one clean when a room is filled with clutter?

This is my progress:

Sept 6

Sept 11

Sept 26

This is what is up for sale this week:

 

This is what will go up for sale soon:

And this is a combination of items soon to be sold and toys I'm holding onto for as long as my last daycare child remains:

 

Then there are the daycare cots (3), playpens (2), booster seats (2), baby gates and whatever remains outside. It feels like there is no end to the daycare excess within this house of ours.

I have sold 49 items to date. The average selling price of my wares has been $9.25 per item. Almost everything I list for sale has a start bid of $1 to $5. "Demand" kicks up the selling price substantially in many cases. In three weeks, I have made $453.50 and the bids on the items I put up for auction yesterday are up to $76.75 with 36 hours left before my auction closes.

I'm not getting rich but I'm gaining an appreciation for the high cost of living excessively. By paring down the contents within the playroom downstairs, I found myself moving the piano so I could vacuum, dusting and giving the whole house a quick once over with the vacuum cleaner before I called it a day. I walked around with a dust rag and cleaned as I walked along. I still use the term "cleaning" very loosely because at this point it is little more than rolling up the excessive dust dirt (quite literally, when I started swiping at the dust from the cat litter in the laundry room this morning). 

I am feeling lighter and more energetic. I've been at this for four weeks and I easily have four more weeks to go before I start digging into the excessive accumulation of our household goods. Nothing is safe right now. I'm on a mission. The mere fact that I find myself cleaning without intent is nothing short of astounding. There is much energy to be gained by living a less materialistic life.

Energy Begets Energy

Energy begets energy. I knew this, yet I couldn't muster the energy to turn off the TV, walk out of the room which is my quiet, private oasis and do one hard thing.

I finally did it. I walked out that door and into a room which has been begging to be taken care of for months (maybe a year) on end. I did one hard thing. I made the chaos within the room even bigger and taller and messier. I stood back and took inventory of the excess and knew something had to be done. And I'm doing it.

Suddenly everything in the house, garage, playhouse and yard is on the chopping block. "I don't need you! You must go!!" Then I hop onto Kijiji and offer to give it away for free. I have found there is very little (if anything) in the world that some other person may take, if it is offered for free. Of the nine items listed to give away, I have only one left.

While discerning between selling, giving away or throwing something away there has been precious little which has gone by way of the garbage. A broken weed eater, a paper shredder with a dead motor and a few small slats of wood are all that my friendly neighborhood garbage truck has taken away.

Everything else is or has been sold. I started purging on September 5th. It is now 11 days later and I am $328.25 richer. And I have only nicked the surface of all there is yet to sell. I'm living in a gold mine here. Who knew?!

I have auctioned off most of my items, listed others on Kijiji. Between free stuff and items I have sold, my neighbors must be wondering what is going on with all of the coming and going around here.

I have basically stopped life in its tracks so I can be available whenever it is convenient for others to come and pick up their wares. I have even stayed awake and dressed as late as 9:30 to sell something.

I was weary, I was tired of the day, I wanted to walk away from the computer, crawl into my pajamas and fall into a weary sleep. But I didn't. I waited. And waited. And waited some more, for this person to come pick up their playpen.

While I sat at the computer, I worked. I finally, finally, FINALLY submitted columns to the papers I write for. I thought "this" was going to be it. The night before, I even wrote my pre-resignation email to one of my editors but I didn't have the energy to proofread the articles I was sending so I didn't send it. Then the next day happened.

My weekly letter to my mom had been postponed longer than it should have been. I started writing it on Sunday. I added some more on Monday. I started selling stuff and listing more items for sale in between all the cracks of living my life and I talked to her on the phone on Tuesday and Wednesday.

By Thursday, I thought I had to mail something. Even if it was nothing. So I wrote. Then I started reading my blogs of the past week and I realized something. My words are flowing again. I may not be writing the Great American Novel here but I'm writing. I'm not only purging the excesses within our house but I am starting to let go of some of the words which have been holding such power.

I read back a week, then two. I saw how life has transformed itself and how I felt it coming, embraced it and did my best to make peace with it. There is an energy force which has gripped me and got me back into action. Moving and shaking up the contents of our home has restarted the flow of words.

My life is mirrored by the way our home looks and feels at the moment. It is a bit of a mess. Sometimes you have to pull everything out of the closets and put them into clear sight before you see the way through the mess is and make even a bigger one. Once the closets are emptied, there is room to make way for new life.

I am on my way out of the daycare business. I have "emptied my closets" literally and figuratively. My future feels a little like the way our downstairs playroom looks. It looks chaotic and if I stopped now, it would only get worse. The only way through the mess is to keep moving forward.

Every step forward is a step in the right direction. There is so much yet to be done but I have found a renewable source of energy within one small nugget of wisdom I have always known but always forget when I'm deep in a state of exhaustion. Energy begets energy.

I have been going to bed later, sleeping sounder AND (this is the best part) waking up before my alarm goes off at 5:00 a.m. feeling energized and ready to tackle another day.

I like this energized feeling. I think (I know) the television set was my kryptonite. It took away my power. It was the addiction I turned to, so I wouldn't have to "feel" the discomfort of the life I was (or wasn't) living.

What is zapping your energy? Energy is a renewable resource so if you can walk away from what is depleting you, you just may amaze yourself. Easier said than done. I know. One step in a forward direction will lead you towards where you need to go. Please remind me of this in a week or two when I fall flat on my face, will you?

The Need to Be Still

I can't wake up early enough to write these days. Then when I do wake up, I am not too fond of the mood I'm in or the thoughts I'm thinking. Since I haven't had anything to say that will make world a brighter place, I have stayed away from my poison pen (or computer keyboard) and have been trying to focus on gratitude instead.

It's been hard.

My little people deserve better than the person I am these days. My patience is non-existent, my energy levels are at an all-time low, my idea well seems to have dried up and I think the hopes and dreams centre of my brain have shut down.

I must realign my thought processes and I am not exactly sure how to do it. I know it is in the "doing", not the "planning to do" or "thinking about doing", where the magic begins. I have many thoughts. I should be doing so very much. But I keep coming up with excuses. "Lazy" is the word that comes to mind when I think of why I am not pushing myself out of and beyond this funk. "Unmotivated" is another. The words that escape my mouth when I am in the company of others embarrass me. I need to be sequestered until I have something positive to say.

I feel like I need to make a very big change but I don't know if I'm up to it. I could really use a "maternity leave" right now. A year off to be still ...

I read these words written by Glennon Doyle Melton: "Self-betrayal is allowing the fear voices to drown out the still, small voice that knows what to do and is always leading us home to ourselves and to truth and to love."  http://momastery.com/blog/2016/08/01/i-need-to-tell-you-something/ , and it was as if she was speaking directly to me.

I think "fear" is the boss of me right now. I should look for a job in a different field but the idea terrifies me. I used to smile and think it was a good thing to always be looking beyond where I was with wonder and admit that I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up. I think I do know. I want to be settled into a safe little life that includes a pension, a paid off house, a six month emergency fund and a husband.

I've been flying solo for most of my adult life. I've raised three boys. I was a single parent for most of that time. I did it. I proved myself. I did everything I had to do to provide a roof over our heads and pay the bills. I was pleased with the fact I did a lot of this on my own. But I have had assistance. My family has supported me whenever the chips were down. The government subsidized my income and made my life affordable and it was a comfortable little life.

I'm on my own now. Here I am. I am 55 years old, living in a house that should have been paid off seven years ago, with my retirement savings spent subsidizing my decision to open my daycare, thereby forfeiting my job where I was building a nice little pension fund.

My job skills are very rusty and my fear factor is high. I knew when I made the choice to return to my daycare "career", my future plans included working until I died. I thought I was pretty funny when I said that. I thought that would encourage me to keep on believing I was capable of big things. I thought it would keep my thoughts young and my spirits high.

I was wrong.

I don't want to work until I die. Not doing what I am doing, anyway. My little people are wearing me out. I look at the bookkeeping homework I brought home with me on the weekend and shudder. Bookkeeping is not where it's at for me. I don't mind fitting it into an eight hour window, once a week, with a weekend off every month. But I don't want to bring it home with me.

Bookkeeping was my "ace in the hole". It was my back up plan. It was supposed to keep my brain limber and agile. It was supposed to challenge me and pay a few bills. "Balancing to zero" and "black and white, right or wrong answers" were all I wanted after the year I attempted to work outside of my home. Now, it just makes my shoulders and neck tense up and I want little to do with it.

Writing used to be my passion but I cannot spread the words in my head lately. I need to change the channel. My thoughts are circling within my head and going no where. So here I am, purging them onto the computer screen. Even though I know better. They have to go somewhere. This is my "safe place to fall", so I shall put them here. Keeping quiet is not my answer. "The fear voices are drowning out the still, small voice that knows what to do and is always leading me home to myself and to truth and to love."  I need to quieten my world, purge my thoughts, put them into writing and onto the page so I can hear that voice. That voice has never failed me. It has helped me find my way when I was lost. I need to hear that voice again. It's in here somewhere...

Wake Up Call

This "habit" to keep moving in the mornings is starting to feel hard.

I took off the weekend. I figured two days off, after being true to myself and my promise for six days straight deserved a reward. So I "rewarded" myself and stayed asleep instead of moving.

Then came "Monday". I didn't feel like doing really hard things but I knew it was important to keep moving forward and through the paralysis of inertia. Being "still" is so much easier than waking up and moving. So I turned on a YouTube exercise video and exercised. It was a half hearted attempt but every time I started to beat myself up because I was not putting my whole body and soul into the work at hand, I kept telling myself "This is better than sleeping. You are moving. This is better than being still. This is enough for now."

Then came "this morning". I woke up before my alarm and thought I couldn't do it. I was ready to turn over and go back to sleep when I heard a faint "beep" "beep" "beep" from right outside my bedroom door.

I parked the non-functional exercise bike right outside my door several weeks ago. And there it "slept". Until this morning. "Beep" "Beep" "Beep" it called out. It didn't make one peep the entire time I cleaned, fiddled with and rode it. Silence. Pure and utter silence. Then, the morning I decided that maybe I wasn't so into this whole idea of "moving", it called out to me.

I found where the batteries were located and removed them. Since I was up and about anyway, I decided to find a short Zumba workout on YouTube. It was twenty five minutes. I was tired and lethargic. But I did it. I got up and moved.

I am at a crucial point in forming this new habit. I could quit right now and never look back. Thank goodness for malfunctioning electronics. This mysterious beeping pulled me out of my lethargy and into some form of motion this morning. I may have to do this on my own tomorrow but for today, I am grateful for the wake up call.

Letter to Self (from a Sixty Year Old Me)

Dear Fifty Five Year Old You,

I am writing this letter to you four and a half years in advance of you turning sixty years old. I am writing it to you this morning because I'm a little disgusted and disappointed in "55 Year Old You" and I think you need a good talking to. This may not be pretty. You have been warned.

I am very disappointed in you lately. If I didn't know who you were and where you have been, I would call you a "quitter". Heavens, I can't even call you a quitter because lately you have been too afraid, paralyzed &/or lazy to even start anything.

I know, I know. Once you start, you feel committed. Once you feel committed to something, you start beating yourself up. Relentlessly. You think you can't start something because you don't have a whole big chunk of time to devote to the job. So you don't start anything.

This has got to end. You know that. You know the answer is to simply take small bites out of big jobs and whittle away at them. You know this! Why aren't you acting on it? I know, I know!  You are tired. Your daycare days are long. Your weekends are short. How can you do "big things" when you have so little left over at the end of the day?

If you keep this up, by the time you hit the age of sixty you will want to abandon this ship and this home you have created because there is always "too much to do". Isn't this home everything you ever wanted? Hasn't this house enabled you to work from home and adapted to whatever you wanted it to do for you? Hasn't the ability to pay "interest only" on your mortgage allowed you to pay your bills, live a comfortable life and given you more financial freedom than renting an apartment could ever afford you?

This house is so much more than a roof over your head. It sustains you. It shelters you from the harsh elements of life in so many ways more than the weather. Respect it, take care of it, pamper it a little from time to time and it will continue to be there for you. And please, please, please try to pay it off!

Speaking of houses, I have no idea why I started this rant about "where you are" and "where I want you to go" with the house. I should have started with this body that is going to carry us from Point A to Point B. If I think you've let the house that shelters us go to pot, what in the world do you think I think about the way you are treating our body? How in the world is this vessel going to weather stormy weather if you don't smarten up and take better care of it?

As it is with the house, it is with our body. Start small. Rome wasn't built in a day. Fifteen minutes isn't long. Start there. Fifteen minutes of extra curricular movement. Yes, I know you think your daycare life is keeping you from turning to stone. But it isn't challenging you. You need to stretch and move and lift and get your heart pumping faster. You know this. But you aren't doing anything about it.

Start with an early morning walk. Rain or shine or sleet or hail. Walk. Just walk! Remember how awesome you felt when you took on those early morning paper routes? Walking the streets of your neighborhood while "the world" slept? You marvelled at the Northern lights, the glistening snow, the sounds of silence and nature. You thought. The words flowed in and out and through you. You came home revitalized, energized and motivated. You loved that time. Skip the paper route, take on the walks. Start there. Add and change things up as you go along. But you must BEGIN. You must. Your life depends upon it.

While I'm at it, you must nourish yourself with good food. What you feed your body fuels your brain and your brain is acting starved lately. Give it some good, solid fuel to work with and you may be amazed that your ability to think, act decisively and "do hard things". This is half the work you thought it was when you were spending your life binge watching the Gilmore Girls on the couch, with a can of Pringles at your side. Replace the Pringles with almonds. Make good meals and you may be amazed that you may fuel the appetite of others. "If you make it they will come."

I've sat back and watched you wither yourself away into a shadow of who you are capable of being. You do not have to do great things at all times but you do need to follow your passions. When you deny yourself the ability to dream big and chase a few of those dreams you become small and your world becomes smaller. You know your world is shrinking. You think you like this feeling right now. I want you to look outside of your smallness and do uncomfortable things again. Invite people into your life.

You need to look out the window and let the world inside. You are lonely and you don't even know it. You think you don't have enough of yourself to spread out any thinner than you already are. You have been here before and you will be here again. Writing is where it is at for you. If you are too tired, too fearful and too stuck in your ruts, WRITE! Send emails, letters, cards and write little notes to those who have made an impact. Write! Write! Write! This is the way out of your small world. It is a beginning.

Judging by the dreams you have been having lately, you are feeling very aware of Mom's mortality. In some ways, you feel like you are "channelling Mom" in the ways you have slowed yourself down, felt overly attached to this house and subconsciously made your world such a small one. I think you are trying to understand exactly what she is feeling by mirroring her world within your own. STOP IT! Stop it right now!! Instead, focus on "who Mom was" when she was the age you are at right now.

When Mom was this age, she was faced with her new reality after Dad's heart attack. He never came home again. I think of Mom when she was going through that time and she was strong. She simply kept taking the next forward step during a time where she must have felt completely in limbo. We marvelled at how young Mom was at age 65 and all the memories her grandchildren had of their very untypical grandma. Yes, Mom was (and still is) a force to be reckoned with. Her family and her home were (and still are) everything to her. Yes, she has slowed down. Yes, her body is starting to wear out. No, she will not live forever. That scares you, doesn't it? Ya, me too.

We don't know what life is going to hand us in between "now" and "five years from now". You simply cannot spend your time focused on that uncertainty. Take the lessons you learned from "loving André" and pay them forward.

• SAVOR THE MOMENT. Always. 
• Make memories, document them. Take pictures, but write. ALWAYS WRITE!
• Let your love shine. Your actions speak louder than words. ACT LOVINGLY.
• Let others know how you feel. SPREAD THE POSITIVE. One positive word goes a long way. 
• You will never regret what you have done. DO ALL YOU ARE CAPABLE OF DOING.

You know where your passions lie. For you, it is writing. Write for yourself. Share what is worth sharing. Just keep writing.

You are at a crossroads right now. Your children are adults and on their way. Some are further down the road than others but never forget how you feel towards your own Mom because that feeling is one you want to nurture with  your own children. We have a good, solid foundation. Just keep building.

You have some amazing friendships and relationships within your world. Don't neglect them. Even when you think you don't have time, you can always make time to send off a note or card or email. Keep those connections alive. They nourish and sustain you.

Take a chance. One chance at a time. You have become a shell of who you used to be. You know it. You are disappointed in yourself right now but this is not the end of your story. Even though (at the moment) you wouldn't care if it was.

Yes, you are tired. You are tired because you are not involved in creating your own story. You are sitting dormant, waiting for life to happen. When "life happens" it is like a slap on the face. You react. You feel indignant. You recoil then rebound. You always rebound. How about not waiting for a "slap in the face" this time? You have the power to live life out loud without being slapped into it.

Feed your body, mind and soul with fresh air, good food and positive input.
Walk. START by walking.
Write. Never stop writing. It is where you find your answers, your inspiration and your dreams.
Love. Open your heart up and take a chance again.

I want to read these words in four and a half years and say "YES! YES!! and YES!!!". I did it. I made changes. I pushed myself out of that rut and into a new and improved one. Most of all I want you to believe "Life does go on regardless of how you live it. Live it well!"

See you in the future my weary friend. You have everything you need inside of you. And if it isn't inside of you, it is here within your home, your heart and those who touch your world. Stay connected, my friend. Stop, look, listen with your heart. You will find your way. You aren't lost. You just haven't found the right highway yet.

You will find your Field of Dreams, my friend. "If you build it, they will come" ...

To be continued.

Just Keep Swimming!

Why are my mornings never long enough? Why is a one day weekend never enough? Why can't I accomplish anything at the end of my days? Is it because I have taken up exercise and fitness that I have run out of time? Is it because I have been cleaning the house like a white tornado? Is it because I'm writing a novel? Or even reading one? In a word - "NO"

My hours, days and weeks are slipping through my fingers and I have little or nothing to show for my time. Each and every time I tend to an appointment or obligation, I erase it off my whiteboard with great flourish. DONE! Over! Good for another year (or two months or never again)! But before I have the last item erased from that board, something new and unexpected has cropped up to fill its vacancy before it was even vacated.

I had a minor to-do-list to tend with my Sunday off. I crossed one item off of it and belabored the next item for the following two days before I called in an expert and made an appointment to figure out how to best deal with this challenge. In two words? "INCOME TAX"

I find it a little ironic that people think I know something about bookkeeping, I work for an accountant and I have done my own taxes (and many others) for years, yet I feel completely inept and frightened and in need of guidance this year. Because of one thing. My youngest child will turn eighteen years old this year. Next year will be the first year since I turned eighteen years old myself, that I will become a "Single, with no dependents" tax payer. I need to ensure I am claiming every deduction available to me. All I can say is: "THANK GOODNESS I AM SELF-EMPLOYED!"

Little jobs, such as finding a picture to put inside the picture frame my oldest son gave to me have become onerous. I get sidetracked like a one-year-old who has been asked to pick up a few toys. I start playing with the toys I was supposed to put away, then find more and have triple the mess to clean up after all is said and done. "WHERE IS THE ADULT IN THIS SITUATION?"

I accomplish absolutely nothing during my daycare days. I know this is good and this is right, because that means I must be doing my job taking care of my little people. Back in my old Daycare 1.0, my kids entertained themselves. I stood quietly in the background dusting, cleaning bathrooms, scrubbing the kitchen cupboards and floor as I tended to my little people. In my dusty memories of days-gone-by, it seemed my little charges were more content. The minute these guys see me sit still, they need, want &/or demand my attention in some way. Perhaps I should start cleaning again. The key seems to be "DON'T SIT STILL!"

The saddest part of all of this is that I don't seem to be grabbing and holding onto the little moments of my day and pulling out the "good stuff". I sit still here at the computer in the morning, like I have always done and I think to myself "I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO WRITE ABOUT!"

Yes, I have been screaming at myself inside of my head. These capitalized sentences I have quoted are the censored version of my self talk of late. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" "WHY CAN'T YOU GET ANYTHING DONE?" "WHY AREN'T YOU EATING LESS AND MOVING MORE??!!" "WHY ARE YOU SO UNMOTIVATED?" "WHERE IS YOUR GET UP AND GO, GIRL?!!?"

I have been doing one thing right though. I have peeked out from under the covers and my life has included other people lately. Socializing is good, it is positive and it is bringing me out of my head. But it is time consuming. Why can't I have it all??

At this moment in time, I feel like two-day weekends would be the answer to all of my woes. Two days. One day to "do", the other day to "be", with long weekends having a bonus day to "fritter or invest" at my leisure. 

My bookkeeping job has provided me with knowledge I didn't have before. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. People who know me think I'm smarter than I am. I am smart enough to know I know less than I thought I did before this whole bookkeeping adventure began. My bookkeeping job has provided an income which helps subsidize the cost of living. The unfortunate truth is that next year, I should probably hand over half of that income to Revenue Canada because they will probably want it all back in taxes. 

I feel like I'm working in circles. I accomplish little and I feel like I'm going no where. One step forward, three steps back. The new daycare family who was going to come here for three months changed their mind. The same day, three different people approached me about taking care of their children. One full time family gone. Two part time families will not come close to replacing the income I have already spent (yes, I have ordered new back doors).

One step forward, three steps back. I guess as long as I keep taking that step forward I shouldn't get too lost. Or will I? "Life" is starting to bog me down. I'm treading water here and keeping afloat, but I really just want to swim out of this undercurrent and be free. 

I'm not sure how to do it but for now, I'll ... "JUST KEEP SWIMMING!"

I feel and look EXACTLY like "Marlin" (the orange clown fish) in this clip!!

Little Things - A Painting Story

Our new living room blinds finally arrived and were installed first thing Monday morning. I was rather relieved at their delay because I hadn't gotten around to painting the moulding around our new windows. I knew I needed the nudge the arrival of our blinds would provide and I was grateful their installation date fell on a Monday. That meant I had all weekend to paint the new window casing.

It is a good thing I had all weekend because that is exactly how long it took.

I had to work on Saturday and then I received a last minute invitation to go to my son's for supper after work. I left the house at 9:00 a.m. and didn't get home until 10:30 p.m. For a person who loves nothing more than being at home, it was an exhausting day. 

I was elated to wake up Sunday morning, knowing I could stay home and revel in the day. Then I remembered the dreaded painting job that had to get done. That could wait. I had "Part II and III" of my "III Part Cat Series" of posts to work on. I immersed myself in cat pictures and videos and lost the entire morning.

I poked my head out of my "writing room" (boy! I love having a laptop because I can move it into whatever room is most conducive to writing at the time) and discovered more than half the day was gone. I still hadn't picked up a paint brush. I almost felt queasy thinking of it. I think I am allergic to painting. No, not paint, the noun. Painting, the verb. What else could explain the physical deterioration of my soul as I considered the idea of picking up a paint brush?

Finally, I could hold off no longer. My oldest son was going to drop by. He said he would come in an hour to an hour and a half. Eureka! The race was on. I would paint until my son arrived. I had a reason to start the job. And more importantly, I had a valid excuse to stop. 

So I painted. I don't like painting when you can barely see the difference in the "before" and "after". The sun was shining in my eyes, so I used my paint cloth to block the sun while I painted a board that looked no different after I was done. Assuming I missed half of what needed to be painted, I went around the new window moulding twice. Where was my son? Shouldn't he be here by now??

Well, I had no excuse to stop, so I kept on going. I started painting the baseboards that were revealed because furniture had been pulled away from the walls. I could paint behind the furniture, put the furniture back and paint the rest later. Ya, right. I kind of knew that wouldn't work, but I honestly did start painting the baseboards "thinking small". Just in case my son arrived shortly thereafter.

He didn't arrive, so I kept painting. Amazingly (after I dipped the tail of my sweater into the paint can and immediately scrubbed it out), the job went fairly well. And it looks even better than that. I couldn't believe I painted an entire wall of baseboard, plus a small nook and my son still hadn't arrived. I checked my phone to find the message, "I'm not gonna have time to make it over today. Sorry."

That message ended my painting for the day. Perhaps, for the year. 

I finished my painting, moved the furniture back against the wall and appreciated the look of the spruced up baseboards. Unlike my brand new window casing, there was a vast difference in the "before" and "after" look. I should keep on painting! Ya, right.

The next morning, our new window blinds were installed but I didn't have time to sit and admire them during my daycare day. But when Mom called the moment my day was done, I closed the blinds, sat down on the love seat and just gazed at them like I was staring off into an ocean. They were beautiful. I was so grateful I had gone the extra mile and painted the baseboards below the window. Unchipped baseboards accessorized the new blinds beautifully. I should get back to painting as soon as I hang up the phone! Ya, right.

My new favorite place to talk on the phone, is sitting on the love seat as I gaze at our new blinds. A friend called me last night after my daycare day was done. I grabbed the phone and immediately made my way to the living room so I could marvel at our new blinds and beautifully painted baseboards. I really should just paint the entrance way baseboards at the very least. Ya, right.

The paint can is still sitting in the kitchen, just begging to be opened and utilized. It gives me such a lift to spruce up that which I already have. The paint and everything I need is all bought and paid for. All I need to provide is the time and energy to paint just a little bit more. 

Even without the TV in the living room, I seem to have ZERO energy at the end of my days. Maybe I can blame the lack of sun. At least until spring...

And because I feel as excited as a new parent, here are my blinds "baby pictures" and all the new ways we can use them (of course, there are a few cats tossed in for good measure).

New blinds - closed

New blinds - open

New blinds - daycare ready

Aren't they lovely?? And be sure to check out the baseboards. Beautiful, right?! I think I'm going to get ready for my day so I can stare at them a little while longer before my real life settles in and stays.

The Smartest Move I've Made

It is hard to believe that my downward spiral into my time of great laziness and despair could be correlated to the time period when we moved a TV into the living room but I'm beginning to wonder.

As my memory flashes back in time, I remember my pre-television-in-the-living-room days and during the most challenging of times, my coping mechanisms turned to activity. Whether it was painting the fence or cleaning or becoming wrapped up in Zumba and fitness, I moved when life got me down instead of sitting still.

Oh, how obvious it seems to me now. There were several times when I thought I should move the TV out of the living room but I enjoyed it so very much. I didn't have a plan or an excuse or any reason whatsoever to move the TV, so there it stayed.

I could tell how a day off was going to go simply by leaving the TV off or turning it on. Tuning into TV helped me tune out of my life. It became my sedative, my best friend, my excuse to sit down and eat a box of chips and my old stand by. It stole my energy, my drive, my dream state and my enthusiasm. It gave very little in return.

Instead of realizing this while I was in the middle of this state, I became more addicted. I tuned into Netflix, TV on Demand and I PVR'd myself into oblivion. It felt like a drug. The more I watched, the more I wanted to watch, even when I wasn't really in the mood to watch. I turned on the TV because it was a habit and I may have lost some of the best years of my life.

I didn't have to work this past weekend. I didn't really see this time off coming but I did get one day's notice to the possibility and I was told I would get a call the next day to confirm our lack of work plans. That was reason enough not to make any other plans because my work schedule could change in a moment. I knew the "correct answer" was to offer to work on Sunday but I couldn't say the words out loud. I thought I could offer when she called back. I didn't receive a call. So I ended up with an almost accidental weekend without enough warning to fill my days with other things.

But fill my days is exactly what I did.

I felt like I was on the way to wasting my Saturday when I got immersed in checking into Kijiji ads and wound up buying a toy workbench and tools for the kids. Then I wound up at Value Village (dropping off a donation -  YAY me!!) and came home with a few more daycare toys. I came home and scrubbed used toys and wondered what in the world I was doing. I was moving out the excess but moving just as much back in!

I ended up going over to a friend's for coffee and my youngest offered to set up our new/old computer if I moved whatever had to be moved, to set it up in its permanent location. My job took all of a minute to accomplish and when I came home a renewed "vision" of our daycare TV/computer/quiet room was so much clearer.

I woke up with this vision still clear in my mind but exhaustion wanted to settle in. "I'll just wash my sheets" is how my morning started. I finished shuffling the contents of three closets around and placed thirty five ads to sell &/or give away various items which have been hiding within those very closets. I'm making money by cleaning!

My little in-house reshuffling event has cost absolutely nothing and has energized me in a way I haven't been energized in a very long time. I still long for the day where I have a mini television marathon but it isn't going to be today.

Moving the TV out of the living room was the smartest move I've made in a very long time. It's good for me, it's good for my daycare family and it is very good for our house and those who reside within. I think the cats miss me hanging out in the living room and the "cat chats" my youngest and I used to have with them as the centre of attention. But they have found their ways to be noticed...

Jet, in the new work bench I bought

Jet investigating the donation pile

Ray, rather disturbed that I was disturbing his rest in "his" new room

Ray, making the best of the tired old sleeping bag which is making its way out of our home.

Climbing Out of the Discomfort

I suppose (and I really do realize) it is a blessing to live in a world where people believe I can do more than I believe myself to be capable of. Because I live in a world of people who believe I am more than I am, it pushes me out of uncomfortable places into a better place.

I write out loud and in doing so, I put myself in a vulnerable position.

I write of my insecurities, my doubts, my feelings of inadequacy and when I start to feel overwhelmed.

I write when I am down. I write when I am up. I write when I am tired (that is dangerous territory). I write when I feel things. I write when I think I have discovered something. And when all else fails, I write about our cats.

It is a risk to write out loud.

I feel like I may alienate my friends when I write of how hard it is to walk outside of this door and interact with the world. I have friends who tell me they pull back from calling or writing or reaching out to me because they don't want to take something I don't have to give.

The thing about giving from that place of "having nothing", is that is exactly what fills me up.

I have felt depleted, drained, inadequate and taxed to the max lately. I have done my best to nurture myself and fill myself up with quiet, solitude and low expectations. I can also tell when I am saturated with that very nurturing which fills me up.

That is the point that is the most uncomfortable of all. I know I have to get up off the couch and move. No more excuses. It is the state of "doing" that starts to fill me up at this delicate part of the equation.

This week has initiated that phase of "getting up off the couch" and doing something. And I should know this from past experience but it always surprises me. Doing something is better than doing nothing. When you do find the energy to do, it is multiplied and you can accomplish more than you ever expected.

My list of things-to-do felt full of "hard things". But for each hard thing I do, the next thing becomes a little bit easier.

This week's task was to send off my columns to supply my editors with another month's worth of articles for their paper. It becomes harder each month. I have to do it quickly without over-thinking. I read something and if it feels like I have made a point worth sharing, I polish it up and send it off.

I did that job Tuesday afternoon and one short half hour after I hit the "send" button, one of my editors asked me to call when I had a chance. I had the "Oh no! I have been called into the Principal's Office again!!" feeling again. My writing has gone downhill and he was going to let me down easy. I "ripped off the band aid" and called him as soon as I read his message. This was no time to mull over the idea of why he wanted to talk with me.

It turned out, he just wanted to touch base with me and explain why my column hadn't been run for a few weeks. He planted seeds. He gave me a name and number of someone to call, who could help me promote my columns within our province's weekly papers. He planted the seed of compiling my "best work" and publishing a book.

He turned a scary moment into one of enlightenment and encouragement.

I have a few more "hard things" to knock off my list but I'm pushing myself out the door and headed to Mom's this weekend. In doing so, I have created a much-needed deadline to tend to some paperwork I've been helping Mom with.

My daycare has been undergoing some changes lately. It has been uncomfortable. Winter is coming and I am starting to panic. What will I do with these little one to three year olds when we can't spend hours outside? We will survive. We always do. But in the meantime, it has been hard to find the words to write my "seasonal" newsletter. One more "hard thing" sits on the back burner. I think I need to rip that band aid off as well.

I have to get myself back into the place where I believe in "me" enough to sell myself. Instead of quitting writing for my papers, I shall try to take on more. I need to find just one more friend for our daycare to help us through the long, cold winter. We need a "spark" of energy and new and fun added to our dynamic.

I need to find the words and energy to reach out to the friends I feel like I have alienated. I have friends who are so sensitive to the words I do and do not write. I have other friends who just tell me what I need to do.

I was floundering Monday morning. One of my friends told me exactly what I knew I had to do to push myself out of the moment I was in. I was thinking it all along. I would have pushed myself to do it. But who knows how long I would have sat in that place of such discomfort.

The place of "knowing" and "doing" is sticky and uncomfortable. It's a hard place to be. It feels wonderful to be climbing out of that hole. Again.

I've done it once, I can do it again. And I will need to do it all over again in a month or so.

This icky, sticky mess called "life" isn't always easy. We wouldn't appreciate the joy that follows the discomfort if it was always easy.

Counting My Pennies

A combination of excessive spending, month-end recaps and accounting have me counting up all of my pennies this morning. And oh, what a lot of pennies there were to account for.

I have devoted my holiday to our home and invested my money in things that don't really show to the naked eye (or those who don't know what the "before" picture look like). But they matter.

A small bit of yard maintenance added to a bathroom touch up has equalled less than the money I spent on my more frivolous vacations this year.

Two days in Las Vegas + a five day trip to go East = seven days of frivolous spending.

I have had seven days of spending throughout this vacation at home. I have spent money each and every day. It felt like I spent a small fortune on my home maintenance and repair project, but as it turns out I have still spent less than the money spent on my gad-about trips.

I have no regrets. I did what felt right at the time. I followed some whims. I followed my heart. But this past week? My heart was happy and content right here at home.

Mom always said she had a very hard time coming to terms with spending money on a vacation. A trip comes and goes and you have nothing to show for it (I don't think pictures and memories matter that much to Mom when it comes to extravagant spending). She always said she could spend that same amount of money on their home and she could enjoy the benefit of that spending for years.

After my one week stay/work at home vacation, I am grasping what Mom has always felt and believed.

It has been thoroughly satisfying to putter away, aid and abet those I hired to do the hard work and see a small transformation in just a few areas within our house and yard.

The guy I hired to do my painting and other miscellaneous tasks was a salesman. He was telling me that what I was spending my money on was not increasing the value of our home. I couldn't seem to make him understand that I really couldn't care less about increasing the equity I have in our home.

For one thing, I don't have the kind of money it takes to do a full kitchen &/or bathroom reno. Nor do I have the time.

My goal was to increase the value of our home to me. The person who cleans, maintains and is responsible for it. I want to feel good about where we live. I simply want to live in a home where it looks like somebody cares.

I had one short week to do what I could, to inspire and motivate me to clean, repair and keep doing small things as I go along, instead of focusing on the overwhelming feeling of falling so far behind on everything house related.

I believe I have two good days of work I can do ahead of me. I don't need someone to hold my hand and carry me through. The heavy work is done. At least for the moment.

I really needed to be reminded of the fact that I can do hard things. I can putter away and make a small difference over a longer time period.

Yes, I still feel overwhelmed when I look at the "next" room. That hasn't changed substantially.

What has changed is the way I feel inside. Slow and steady gets you somewhere. Anywhere. Sometimes anywhere but where you are at is exactly where you need to be. Physically and mentally.

Using my body and mind has been invigorating. I haven't ran any marathons here. I have been working at a regulated pace. I seem to be spending an extraordinary amount of time making returns and repurchasing what I think we need.

My credit card will need a vacation after this holiday. Not from misuse. I haven't made any extravagant purchases, But the frequency of usage due to my slow and steady spending is wearing the numbers off my tired old card.

I stopped and tallied up my spending this morning. It felt like I was going to be in way over my head. But I'm not. I'm holding steady my break even point.

I haven't worried about the money as I go along. I seem to have a mental scale that keeps me from going overboard. When it starts tipping to far one way, I seem to reign myself in.

I have found myself putting that-which-is-not-necessary back on the shelf. Even after holding it and carrying it around for a while. Something sane and rational is happening within my subconscious mind. I seem to have this internal balance thing in check.

There have been times when I have spent money to fill a void. That isn't happening here. I am spending what is necessary. I have splurged by replacing that-which-was-still-serviceable with new and matching and a little bit pretty. At least to me.

It's been a great vacation. I still have three days ahead of me. I am almost at the point where my spending is done. Except I have one more return to make. And oh, if I just bought a can of paint so I could do some touch ups when time and energy allowed, maybe, just maybe, I could try and find a way to keep this ambition alive.

It is a Start

Holidaying is hard work. There doesn't seem to be enough time in the days to do all I want to do and still have any waking hours left in me.

I guess I am accustomed to cramming all that needs-to-be-done into the hours of 7:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., then when my daycare day ends, so do I.

In my regularly scheduled life, I do what must be done and then I rest. I love the "resting" part of my day. It is my light at the end of the tunnel. It drives and propels me. I do what I have to do, so I can sit still at the end of the day.

It is a simple life, but it is mine and I love it.

That is why I am amazed and astounded that my holiday-at-home seems so far removed from my regular daycare day.

Accomplishing tasks throughout the day is rather invigorating and motivating. One thing leads to another. And another. And another.

It is intoxicating. It is also rather expensive.

I have concentrated my efforts in one room. It is the only room in the house where I am not distracted by "life", a TV, a computer or kids. It is one area where life's distractions don't follow me. A cat or two? Perhaps. But for the most part, it is the one place where I sit and stare at the walls without distraction.

The bathroom.

It seemed like a very good place to start. It is small but not without many nooks, crannies and corners. I am not doing a full-fledged reno. I have hired a painter and he will tend to the stuff I cannot do. While he is here, he said he could replace the light, taps and change out any of the towel racks, etc.

Just like the work we did outside on the weekend. To anyone else, I am doing what should have been done all along. It is nothing big, extravagant or room-altering. It is simply "maintenance". What I should have been doing all along.

It is small. It is expensive. But most importantly, it is a start.

Getting stuck in one place involves a lot of energy. You tend to "should", "could" and "would" yourself to death and nothing changes.

It is far more empowering to do one little thing in a forward direction.

Fortunately I seem to think my cash flow can afford it right now. For the longest time, my finances were in too much of a precarious state.

A sane person may say I am still far from a place where I should be spending money I don't have to fund my need for order within my home. A sane person may simply scrub and nickel and dime their spending to make a little go a long way.

I never claimed to be sane. But I do feel ever so much more ambitious and motivated now that I have taken that first step in the direction I want to go.

Revelling in Holiday Bliss

Ping! Ping! Ping! My brain feels like the ball in a pinball machine this morning. And I think I like it.

I have been awake for an hour and it is going in a minimum of six different directions.

• I have made an east-bound phone call (so it was a decent time for them to receive a call) and left a message. 
• I have addressed an envelope and have a card and pen ready to go the minute I find my way back to the kitchen table.
• I have found "inspiration" for a gift which is long, long overdue.
• I have my Kijiji open to "painters", for a few projects I hope I can get started while I am still on holidays.
• I have the final numbers I need to complete an income tax job which I have taken on
• And I have meaning to sit down and blog since the moment the caffeine kick-started my morning.

Whew! What a relief. When my feet hit the floor this morning I had this overwhelming fear that I may waste the day which had not even begun.

I'm loving "holiday mode". Loving it (yes, Mom ... I love this feeling).

Two days of productivity within our home-space, with two of my sons at my side aiding and abetting me. They were two days of enjoying my family, as we worked together, ate together and two out of three of my sons accompanied me through most of my days. It felt like a mini family reunion, of the working/eating kind.

That was followed by yesterday. Yesterday was the day I crashed and burned. Not really, but yes. I kind of did.

I woke up with an agenda. I had a letter to write and mail; a return to make; and an errand to run. I made such good time, I decided to stop for a manicure/pedicure on the way home. Two days of working in the yard did a number on my hands and feet. I had compensated my sons for working throughout their weekend. I decided to "compensate myself" with a mani/pedi. And it was good.

Upon my return home, I called Mom but she didn't answer. I didn't want to start anything until I had talked with Mom so I sat down and turned on the TV. Then I woke up. Again and again and again.

I couldn't stay awake. Immediately I thought, "NO! This is not how you are going to fritter away your holiday!" So I called Mom again. This time she answered and we talked until we were talked out.

My son and I had plans to invest part of a day (or however long we wished), playing an online mystery game. So, as soon as my day's agenda was tended to we sat down together to play our game. The game itself didn't turn out so well. But the idea was a good one (so I opened ONE more tab on my computer screen, so add that to my bullet list above), so I think we will try another day.

So once again, I sat down in front of the TV and immediately fell asleep. Again and again and again.

I woke up to pick up supper for my son (I was still working on Saturday's lunch leftovers). Sat down and slept some more.

One last errand completed the day and I managed to stay awake for an hour after I came home.

I woke up this morning worried that today could be another wasted day. But I don't think I have time to waste this day ahead of me. There are simply too many things I want to do.

I love this thing called holidays. It is giving me time to work, play and rest. As a rule, I must choose "one of the above". My regularly scheduled life does not seem to have the time to revel in all three during my down time. I can fit in all three of the above, but I don't have time to revel in the sensation.

I love to put in a productive day when I am not ruled by the clock or the calendar and can just go as long (or as little) as I want. I love the feeling of putting a big task behind me. I love the satisfaction of doing something until it is done. I love sitting back and enjoying the view of a "job well done" (or done well enough).

I love having the time to stop and have supper with my boys. And talk with Mom for as long as she wants to chat. And the ability to call a friend on a whim and following the trail that conversation may lead.

And most of all, I love going to sleep and waking up in my own bed. I love being at home, staying at home and doing all the things that ground and sustain me. Cat Chat with my Youngest Son. Watching Cat Chases in the early morning. Sitting down with my morning coffee and going with the flow of the day.

And today is quite literally flowing.

It is raining outside. As long as the grass seed we planted on the weekend doesn't get washed away, Mother Nature is tending to my outdoor work so I can "play" indoors.

And that is exactly what I am going to do.

Running Behind But Well on My Way

Throughout my holiday, I found myself getting up to the sun. I woke up several times before the sun did. In fact, I laid in bed wide awake watching TV. But more often than not, I did not climb out of bed and face the day until my alarm told me it was time to give Senior Cat his 9:00 a.m. dose of medication.

This strategy really messed with life as I know it.

The quiet of the morning is when my brain waves are keen and fresh. There is something about early morning solitude, combined two to three cups of coffee and knowing I have a few hours to myself that makes my fingers fly across the keyboard and spill the early-morning thoughts of my brain onto the page before me. 

Waking up at 9:00 a.m. provided no such guarantee.

Numbing my brain with early morning television programming is the death of me. I can feel my own thoughts and words evaporate into thin air. By the time I walked out of my room into the vastness of the quiet of (what was left of) the morning I barely wanted to read anyone else's words. Let alone write a few of my own.

Towards the end of my holiday, I grabbed my coffee and morning smoothy and went straight to the love seat in the living room.

I had an end table nestled right up to the spot where I reclined with all the remote controls required to watch whatever combination of live, recorded, Netflix or TV on Demand combination I craved. Along with these remotes, were the house phone, my cell phone, our new iPad and a book. Oh, and my coffee.

I sat still and went with the flow of inertia. 

Inertia doesn't flow well.

I made no voluntary outbound calls, texts or emails unless it was absolutely necessary. I picked up the phone if I knew who was calling. I replied to texts. I took a few people up on invitations out of the house. But for the most part, I simply wanted to curl up in my favored lounging spot of the day and absorbed the input of the 'world' I created.

Beware of the world you create for yourself.

When my world is full of goals, ideas and dreams I feel limitless as to what I can do, accomplish or 'be'.

When I drown out my own thoughts, I become a shadow of who I am and what I feel I can accomplish.

For me, turning on the TV turns off my brain. And with it, my ambition, my self confidence and my own thoughts which define who I am.

Television creates an alternate universe for me. I lose myself. Sometimes that is a good thing and exactly what I need. But when you are a person who is trying to create alternative income sources through writing, tuning in the TV and tuning myself off is not something I want to become a habit.

Maybe that is why I have been drawn to the HGTV channel. Home renovations = retirement and income options for me. The one thing I learned about myself when I took a tentative step outside of my home in an attempt to earn a living in the great big world outside of these doors, is that I want to make my home become a source of revenue for me. Whether that is by running a daycare, taking in a border, opening up a B & B, renting a level of my home or setting up a home office for writing &/or bookkeeping. Working out of my home is where it is at for me.

Thus, my dreams don't die and the ideas don't wither up and go away when I watch house hunting and home renovations.

Something deep inside of me knows 'home' is where it is at for me. I just have to ensure I keep the television turned off and maintain my early morning writing ritual. My fingers know more than I do when I let them fly uninhibited in those dark and quiet early morning hours.

How do I know this? Because when I sat down to write this morning I was going to write about my hair.

Maybe tomorrow. Today is about fulfilling my writing, dream and work quota. I'm running behind but I'm still well on my way.

See you next time! You have been warned. It could be about my 'hairrowing' experience at a new hair stylist tonight. I must trust that I am in good hands. My trusted, tried and true hair stylist has had to abort this career and has referred me to someone he believe best suits my needs.

More on that another day. In the mean time, turn off the TV and tune in your inner self. See who you find inside, when you aren't even looking.