Where Does the Time Go?

I can fritter time away like nobody's business. I get up shortly after 5 a.m. and I'm still scrambling to get out the door by 9:30.

What in the world is so important?

Morning pages. Minimum time investment 45 minutes. Let's round that up to an hour to account for getting up, making my bed and getting "my head" ready to leave the house. A dab of eyeliner and a few strokes of color on my cheeks and I'm good to go.

A second cup of caffeine, my morning smoothie and word/number puzzles go together like chocolate and peanut butter. Depending on the difficulty of the puzzles and my brain power of the moment and this takes a minimum of another hour.

There go two hours in the blink of an eyelash.

Then comes the little time-fillers. One more cup of coffee. Facebook scrolling and checking for new blog posts from some of my favorite bloggers. Submitting a power meter reading; banking and financial loose ends to tie up; making my lunch; replying to texts/emails; turning on an appliance to wash dishes or clothes requires an eventual effort on my part when it comes to putting said dishes/clothes away.

Meanwhile, I must check on the rabbits. I haven't had a rabbit sighting in a few days. Where do they go when I can't see them I wonder...

All the while, my thoughts run in a little loop. Things to do. Things that have been done. Silently congratulating myself for washing my hair and vacuuming yesterday so I've freed up some time. What will I blog about today? What is insightful? What little life event triggered an epiphany? What do I really have to say? Any cat tales? Rants or raves? Hmmm ...

This morning the thought that kept coming up to the surface is the fact that I am such a power sleeper, I have wore a hole in my sheet:

What the heck? Who wears out sheets? This must have usually been at the foot of my bed and perhaps it is worn from the nights my feet are cold and I try to create a little warmth by moving my feet back and forth?? Does it really matter? Do I sleep too much? Add sheets to my list.

Honestly. I am a world class champion at wasting time. Yet the things I want to accomplish get put to the bottom of the pile. All my morning chores must be done first.

Am I this way because I am out of the house all day and these inane activities calm and soothe me before I head out the door?

I squeeze in all the things I used to do during quiet time when I ran my daycare into my mornings and have turned relaxing into a job. I sleep so hard I wear out my sheets. Maybe I am more focused than I give myself credit for. Look how hard I work during the night and into the morning.

I think I found out where my time goes. Relaxing is hard work.

The Most Un-Christmas-Like Christmas of All

What is Christmas supposed to feel like??

There has always been the feeling that Christmas was ‘something special’ within my family.

As a child on the farm, my memories are sketchy … but I definitely recall the sense of wonder, lots of people, our big mid-day Christmas Dinner and the best part of all – the turkey on a bun, with a pickle later in the day.

I think that even as a small child, I appreciated the turkey-on-the-bun part of the day the most. The biggest part of Mom’s workload was finally complete and I must have felt her stress levels decline as she could relax a little, with what was left of the day.

When we moved out of the province and away from my Married Sisters, Christmas truly took on a magical feeling. Christmas meant the gathering of our family under one roof, lots of visiting, a growing number of people (as My Sisters had and raised their children - nine, between the two of them). Oh … it was a very fine time to be a kid in amongst the chaos. Christmas represented nothing but happy family memories.

As I started having my own children, the focus of Christmas started to shift.

My Oldest has fond memories of our Christmases Past. All of his cousins gathered together and many fun-filled memories were made.

As a parent, it was different. I focused on the disparity between My Son’s gifts and those that his cousins received. I could not compete in any way. Eventually, I started to wean my little family out of the Christmas Mornings and we were a part of the celebrations in every other way. It was still good.

It was also during the years of raising my children and on-again, off-again relationships that I started to become angry with the expectations of the season. Christmas has a way of magnifying whatever is going on in your life. Good becomes great; bad becomes unbearable; loneliness becomes sadness. Anniversaries of Christmases Past become a very sad and lonely time when you are in a state of transition or loss.

Time and age assisted in the coming-to-terms with the emotional baggage that Christmas has the ability to carry.

My small family’s traditions became smaller, quieter … and a little less of ‘everything I remembered’ Christmas to be.

My Middle Son’s Christmas memories were far less spectacular than My Oldest’s memories. My Youngest? I will be curious to hear his take on Christmases Past in about a decade or so.

His expectation level has never been too high. Until this year, I had never heard him compare what he received at Christmas, to others.

This year, there were three gifts for him under the tree. He was pleased with what he received. There was no outward indication of let down or disappointment. But the look I saw in his eyes this year was a little bit different than the rest.

We packed up and headed out to Mom’s home for the holidays. We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning with my brother’s family. My Youngest has many fond memories of spending Christmas with his much-older girl cousins. Even now that they are 16 and 19 years old, they still treat him with the same ease and kindness that they always have. The disparity of ages will grow even farther apart as they enter their adult years …

There wasn’t a lot of people, presents or the confusion and chaos of Christmases Past. I believe that my mom savoured that fact. I appreciated the lack of expectations that landed on my shoulders. But my children … what will they remember about this most Un-Christmas-Like Christmas of All?

Will they focus on what they had? Or what they lacked?

I believe it will all depend upon their ages and stages of life.

My Oldest will remember this most untraditional Christmas of all … as the year he spent Christmas in Thailand.

My Middle Son will remember this as the Christmas where he shed the traditional monetary gift-giving … and spent it at home with his very own 'family'.

I will remember it as the Christmas of Empty Arms/Full Heart. The year that I tried to shift the giving … but still felt the need to give something.

My Youngest? He keeps his thoughts quietly to himself. It isn’t sadness, loneliness or loss of a life he once knew that I see in his eyes. I see a look of resignation and acceptance. It is what it is. It isn’t what others have. It is ours. Whether that is a good or bad thing? He will find out more, as the years go by …

Different ... But Still the Same

We've taken a brief hiatus from "life as we know it" and ventured out on a mini holiday before the onset of school and fall weather ...

My Youngest (12 years old) asked if he could invite a friend. If I was in his shoes, I'd want to invite a friend. He's had a very solitary summer holiday. He needs some companionship. So without too much thought, I agreed.

All was arranged easily and the next thing I knew, we were off.

We are now at the tail end of our 2-day-holiday-adventure. We have travelled roads we've travelled many times before. We have stayed at hotels that we've stayed at several times prior. We've seen the sights and did things that we have seen and done many times. It's the same ... but different.

I've travelled these roads with My Youngest through varying ages of his development. Starting at age "1" and at least four times between then and now.

I can't help but compare the past to the present ...

No longer are our days dictated by naps, regularly scheduled meal times and bed time rituals. At age 12, the kids stay up longer than I do and sleep in, in the mornings.

In the early childhood years, I pussy footed around in the mornings in the hope of having a quiet hour (or two) before I had to wear my 'Mom hat' for the day. This holiday? I banged and clanged around, ran water, turned on lights. And nothing. My young boys slept in spite of it all.

The days of packing 'healthy food' are gone (but not forgotten). We packed junk food and pop. We scavenged the cities we were in, to find the best take-out-food options. It was easier in the 'old days', in some ways. I knew the basic food groups were being consumed. Now? I hope My Youngest has an appetite. My Son's young travel companion is the polar opposite when it comes to food. Lots of it, any time, any place. But nutritional value? Not so much.

Independence. At age 12, 'my boys' could stay on their own. But being responsible for someone else's child keeps me close at hand at all times. I just about 'lost' my Son's Friend when he wandered into the hotel corridor ("looking for My Son") the first night. I heard a door open and shut (and assumed it was the bathroom) in the middle of the night. Something made me check it out and ensure 'my boys' were where they were supposed to be. Sure enough - one was missing. I reacted quickly enough, that he didn't catch the elevator he was waiting for. How do you make that phone call to a parent? "Sorry ... I lost your child". Thankfully, I haven't had to experience that.

Swimming no longer (nor has it, for a while) involves me getting into a bathing suit. I still sit at the pool-side and check for 'my boys' on a regular basis. But all in all, the swimming is a pretty easy way for them to burn off their energy and kill a few (or more) hours. Water and kids are a good combination (as long as they play safe and follow the rules).

I kept asking My Youngest "... do you remember when...", as we retraced our steps from a time when he was half of his current age (or younger).

We stayed in the bunk bed suite of a hotel only once before and we returned to stay in that same room this holiday. I asked him if he remembered. His memory made me smile:

"I remember that you forgot to pack a book to read to me before I went to bed ... and you made up a story ... and now that I'm older, I realize the nights when I can't fall asleep, are the nights when I don't hear your voice before I go to bed ..."

That bed-time-story-ritual has passed by the wayside. But his need to 'connect' with me before he falls into a restful slumber remains.

Yes, many things change and evolve over the years. But it's comforting to realize that some things never change ...

Let the Sun Shine In

The lack of routine in my life is playing havoc with my house and yard keeping.

'Friday chores' seem to be a thing of the past. I forget to water the plants. We can leave messages in the dust. 'Tumbleweeds' of hair need to amass before I remember to vacuum the laminate flooring. Vacuuming is a thing of the past (I wore out the vacuum cleaner anyway).

Recent conversation after my Second Son dropped some food on the kitchen floor:

Son: "When is the last time the floor was washed?"
Me: "... umm ... sometime in June? But I swept it today."
Son: "Good enough." (as he gobbled up the dropped food item)

I never did get around to washing windows this year. I had a rare case of ambition for a while in June (when the kitchen floor did get washed), but the ambition was replaced by holidays and transition into my 'new life' and I just don't have things mapped out in my days yet.

I don't even 'see' the yard any more. The first time that I seem to remember that the lawn may need to be mowed is when I hear the sound of our lawn mower driving past the window that I'm working beside.

I'm grateful my son has taken the lead when it comes to the outdoor chores, but now that his work load is picking up I may need to get out and mow the grass myself. Heaven knows, I could use the fresh air, sunshine and exercise.

I need to create some routine into my days. I feel like I'm treading water here. Just keeping myself above the surface, with a great deal of effort.

I think that I may set aside some time to simply clean the house this weekend (and perhaps I will even wash the kitchen floor). Then I will go outside and pick some weeds and mow the grass.

I need a little Vitamin D that comes in the form of a sunbeam. It's time to clean those windows and let the sun shine in!

A State of Readiness

It all started when I was on maternity leave with my youngest. I didn't want to become home bound because it was too much work to get myself and our little family out the door. So I started the habit of being in a 'state of readiness' at all times, so that a decision to go somewhere wasn't an hour long procedure where I had to 'quickly' jump in the shower before coming into contact with the outside world.

This spilled over to other things. I don't like coming home to a messy house. I don't like devoting a day to doing all of the mundane household chores that could be taken care of, just by keeping on top of things. It's an energy-drain. So in my role of New Mom and Homemaker, I also kept the house in a state of readiness. I find it relaxing when I don't have a zillion small things that are staring me in the face and should be done.

Then came the Daycare Days. When I worked outside of my home, I kept my work area in a state of readiness at all times. Organized, supplies replenished as soon as they were running low, easy access to what I used most ... our entire house became 'my desk'. Obsessive compulsive would most likely be the best words to describe the routine, order and systems I had in place to keep things running like a well oiled machine.

In most things I do, I create order so that life runs smoothly. I love living in a state of readiness. It energizes and relaxes me at the same time.

And so begins My New Life. Days where (apparently!!) I have no idea what is in store (I hope this changes soon). Days where I could have work piled along the walls to contend with. Days where I'm waiting on the work. Days where I could get called in on a moments notice to do some 'casual typing'. Days where I have no idea what is in store. How do I get myself into that 'state of readiness' that I've come to know and expect in my life?

#1 - I shall continue to get up early and go through my morning paces as if I expect the day to be consumed with work.

#2 - I shall ready myself so that I can walk out the door at a moments notice. I may get a call to work. I may get a call that I can go and pick up some work. I will be ready.

#3 - I shall have a back up plan. No more sitting, waiting and wasting days. Weekdays shall be earmarked for work. If the work isn't here, I shall work on my family history project. I will maintain a work schedule even if it isn't work I get paid for.

#4 - Weekends will be different. I shall differentiate between work schedules and 'play' time. Time where I can spend mindless hours following my whims.

#5 - I will be flexible. The goal of my New Life is to allow the flexibility of getting my work done in such a manner that I can still stop and have that cup of coffee with someone; go out for lunch with a friend; take care of appointments during the day. My workload will revolve around a little bit of 'living'. Balance.

I woke up this morning not knowing what the day has in store. I have promised myself that this will not be a wasted day. I will work on my family history project until I am interrupted with a paying proposition.

I will remain in 'a state of readiness' and be ready for whatever the day has in store.

Triggers

I have a lot of little 'inside tricks' that set the tone for my days.

Locking the door and closing the blinds at the end of my 'Daycare Day' was the first time that I noticed the rituals that I subconsciously created within my mind. That small but powerful signal to my brain signified that I was closed for business.

I create the tone for each and every day by the small things that I do when I wake up.

If I need to be conscious of time or routine, I'll put on my watch. If I want to create a day of leisure, I leave my watch on the bathroom counter.

The kitchen blinds are opened as soon as I work my way to the kitchen to make coffee and my morning smoothie. Opening the kitchen blinds signify that I'm up and ready to face the world.

If I want a day to myself, the living room blinds stay closed (okay, they also stay closed to keep the excessive heat from the sun out of the living room). If I'm really in a funk, the kitchen blinds remain shut as well.

Coffee = break time; friendship; conversation; stimulation. Is it the taste of coffee that I enjoy? Or is it what it triggers in my mind?

Climbing into my pj's is my own personal celebration of the end of another day. No matter what kind of day I have had, there is a peace that washes over me when I slip into the clothes I will wear when my head hits the pillow.

As I enter a new phase of my working life from home, I'm eager to set some new triggers that will inspire and motivate my subconscious mind into a 'Day Well Spent'. It's only been two days into this new full time work from home venture. I'm eager for this new life to become routine.

Friday ... The New Sunday

Sunday has been my favorite day of the week for a very, very long time.

I believe it was tagged as my favorite during my old, crazy life. The life where I ran a daycare for 11 hours a day, 5 days a week. Then (for a change of pace and to surround myself with adults for a day) worked 6 hours on Saturday outside of my home. Then, for a few years, I tossed in paper &/or flyer delivery into the mix. The one thing that kept me sane during that time was the fact that Sunday was my day off. From everything.

Even in my new life (where I go to school, run my daycare only before and after school and squeeze bookkeeping into my life where ever I choose), Sunday has remained my favorite day. Because it incorporates our new family tradition of 'Sunday suppers'. No matter what I do on Sunday, it must be wrapped up in time to cook or go out for supper (working on a Sunday is ever-so-much-easier when you know your family won't expect you to cook).

My new Sundays have a different flavor than the old. But I love them just the same. It is a day to stop and focus on my family. I love it.

But my Fridays are starting to develop their own unique qualities. Qualities that I'm learning to love as well.

I believe that Friday started having its own special 'flavor' because it follows Thursday night. Thursday night = dance lessons. Dance lessons = a new lease on life. Every single week. I wake up Friday mornings and I'm energized and excited from the night prior. Friday mornings are the best!

More often than not, I am able to wrap up my school hour commitment by Friday. Which means that Friday is often 'my day'.

I can spend the day doing what I want to do. This may never become a novelty to me. After 11 years of being bound to my home from the hours of 6:30 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. from Monday to Friday ... I may never lose the appreciation that I have gained to simply be able to be unaccountable to no one for six hours, one day per week (while the kids are in school).

I can choose to work. I can choose to run around to various appointments and tend to errands. I can putter the day away doing what I want, when I want. As long as I'm home for my after-school kids.

The past handful of Friday nights have been devoted to going out with a new group of friends. It is fun and exciting to take the tentative steps of getting to know this new group. This new Friday night tradition makes me feel like I'm back on my Great Dance Adventure. It is a time where I can step out of my life and into a group. Become part of a whole. And get to know people that I've had only a nodding acquaintance with, a little better. I love this new experience and I do hope the tradition carries on.

Yesterday, this new group of friends didn't come up with anything to do or anywhere to go. I hope that doesn't stop a good thing. I hope we can pick up the ball and carry it onto new adventures in the Fridays that follow.

I didn't have this Friday Night Adventure on my agenda this week, but in its place I reconnected with old friends.

I spent the afternoon with good friends. I talked too much ... but in the end, each of us had the chance to tell the others what was going on in our lives.

What I love about these friends, is that when we sit down and talk ... we really talk. We trust each other with the under currants of what is going on in the lives that we are living. And there is a lot going on.

I sat and I listened (yes, novel for me ... I know). As each of them talked honestly about the challenges that they or a loved one faces, it changed my perspective on so many things.

These friends are my heroes. They stand up to whatever curves life has to throw at them. They champion for their family. They have such capacity for loving, giving, caring and fighting for those they love. It takes my breath away.

I look up to these friends. Unbeknownst to them, they were my mentors long before we became friends. They have qualities that make them stand out. Qualities that I aspire to incorporate into myself. I am still awe struck that these heroes of mine ... have become my friends. I know that I am a better person because of them.

After a most excellent afternoon, I returned to my easy and predictable life. I reflected on our conversations. I simply savored the afterglow of a visit with close friends.

I confronted the bookkeeping task that was facing me. And that is how I spent my Friday night. Not a night out with friends ... but it was a good night none-the-less.

Then ... just as I was winding up my work, the phone rang. A friend that I have been trying to reach for quite a while now, returned my call.

When a few calls/emails/letters aren't returned, I always take a step back. I don't like to push myself on someone. I know that life is busy and most people are much busier than I am, so I don't take offense when I don't hear back from some one. More often than not, I'll think that they are busy and I'll try back at another date.

But this particular friend is one that has been through a rather rough time lately. I knew that I wanted to make contact but I didn't want to push it. When my calls weren't returned, I thought that perhaps the message wasn't relayed. I wasn't worried. I thought 'I'll try later' ...

And yesterday, I did.

We are going out for lunch today. We talked for half an hour on the phone last night and I was updated on the myriad of reasons why she hadn't had a chance to call me back (hospitalization is perhaps as good a reason as any, to not worry about returning a call. Don't you think?).

I have had a handful of heart-to-heart talks with this friend. It's a mutual give and take of conversation. Our lives are parallel on so many levels that I believe we were related in another life (I feel this way a lot ... just last week, I chatted on the phone with a sister-from-another-life ... yet another friend I want to know better).

Yes, Fridays are developing their own personality. As I carve out my new life, I am planning to incorporate this new found flexibility into my working days. I took a tentative step and asked my current employer what lies in store after I'm done school. And the future looks bright. I believe that my next full-time job will be one that affords me the luxury of the feeling of my New Friday.

Flexible Fridays. Yup ... I like the sound of that. But I'm still holding onto my Family Suppers on Sundays. And dancing on Thursdays. Pretty soon, each day will have its own Flavor of the Week. I kinda like that.

Sunday Suppers Any Other Day ... Taste Just as Sweet

Our Sunday family supper got bumped to Monday this week. And it was good.

Mother's Day weekend and the week which followed completely through me off of my cooking groove (as if I had one in the first place - ha!).

My Second Son took me out for a Mother's Day supper on the Saturday preceding Mother's Day ... just in case he couldn't make it on the actual 'day'.

My Oldest Son took me out on Sunday - Mother's Day. My Youngest didn't want to come (though he did have the last half of his submarine sandwich from the night before, so he didn't starve) ... so it was another quiet one-on-one visit (which I enjoy very much).

No one was around Monday night. Supper was whatever I could manage to forage for my Youngest and myself.

Tuesday ... we went out for a buffet supper. Very tasty indeed. My mouth had started watering for this food after I'd come across a month-old receipt from the restaurant as I was sorting through my credit card receipts.

Wednesday, my sister came to the city and we 'did lunch'. Yet another out of the ordinary event in the middle of the week. I hate to say what we did for supper that night. But it didn't involve cooking ... this I know for sure.

Thursday and Friday, I managed to unwrap the cellophane on some frozen food entrees. I still didn't cook (but at least there was no gas mileage cost factor in these meals).

Saturday? Who wants to cook on a hot Saturday afternoon after working in the yard all afternoon? Heavens! I don't enjoy cooking on a cool, rainy day ... a cold winter's day ... a beautiful autumn day. Why should 'Saturday' be any different??

Which brings me to Sunday.

My Oldest was off on a weekend adventure with friends and I knew he wouldn't be home for supper. I had a BBQ menu in mind for the rest of us for Sunday. But when My Youngest and I took off to run an errand (without announcing our intent), My Middle Son guessed that we had gone out for supper without him ... so went out in search of some nourishment while we were gone. So much for good intentions (secretly I was a little relieved because I had managed to eat the better part of a bag of chips that afternoon and wasn't very hungry ... though I did manage to eke out a rather hearty and healthy meal for My Youngest).

The take-out-quotient in our lives is high. Too high.

So, when My Oldest announced that he would be able to come for Sunday Supper on Monday (that would be yesterday), a meal was born.

A plain and ordinary meal. Barbecued hamburgers, hot dogs and potatoes. It doesn't get much easier than that. I got extra fancy and sauteed some onions, served lettuce and cheese to go with the BBQ'd meat ... and you would have thought that I'd put out a gourmet meal.

I guess the secret is to keep the home cooking to a minimum. That way they are happy with absolutely anything!

But in reality, it was a meal seasoned with 'family'. I believe that's why it tasted so good. Sunday? Monday? Or any day of the week. Add a dash of something out of the ordinary to an ordinary meal, and you've got the recipe for success.

Friday Chores ... The End of an Era

Oh, the mind games that I play, to try and motivate myself ...

When I ran my daycare, I had a routine that was strict. I followed it to the T and I moved mountains on a regular basis.

I was 'stuck' home with a house full of kids, for the better part of 11 years. I didn't have long stretches of time at my disposal. I had moments between crisis's, needs, wants, bickering, lunch, snack, after school and pick-up and drop-off times. I made the most of those moments. Now? I could have 6 hours at my disposal ... and I accomplish absolutely nothing.

It was early in my daycare career that I began the ritual of Friday Chores. After sharing our house with other people's children for five days of the week, I lived for Fridays. The day when I washed off everyone else's germs ... so that for the weekend, it was just our dirt. It's a totally different feeling. Family germs verses the unknown.

In the beginning, I spent two hours after everyone (finally) left on a Friday night cleaning, scouring and vacuuming. As time progressed, I squeezed the Friday cleaning into Friday morning and afternoon. So by the time the last child (finally) left on a Friday evening, the house was clean and I was in weekend mode.

I honed the art of my Friday cleaning schedule. I loved summers because I could finish off my cleaning just before nap/quiet time, have our afternoon snack outside and not mess up my clean house. We even waited out rain storms in the play house ... I was not bringing 6 - 8 sandy kids into my clean house!

This fall, my return to school and the decreased daycare load still didn't affect my Friday cleaning schedule. Sure, the house wasn't quite as dirty. But dust happens. So does the need for a regular sanitizing of the bathroom. The plants are thirsty. The mats need to be shaken out every so often anyway. Friday was as good a day as any.

Lately, those Friday chores just haven't been happening. I thought that the plants could probably use a fast. So I starved them for an extra six days this week (Honestly! How hard is it, to water three plants!?!?)

A few Fridays ago, I started my Friday Chores and didn't finish them until the following Wednesday. That was so close to Friday, I figured that was a 2-for-1 deal. So I took that Friday off. Then came the next Friday. Ahhh, what's another week? Finally, this Friday was looming. It was time.

I have started to dread the hour or so, that it takes to do these menial little tasks. The less that you do, the less you want to do ....

So, I decided to kick-start my Friday Chores on Thursday this week.

I started with the idea that anything that I accomplished would be one less thing to do on Friday. The momentum kept me moving until I was complete. Friday Chores completed on Thursday. What a concept.

The need to 'wash off everyone else's germs' that was the origin of my Friday Chores, is no longer one of my obsessions. The runny noses, unrestrained sneezing and coughing, the bathrooming of the pre-school set and milk spillages at lunch and snack time are all but a memory. My 'big kids' are a clean and self-maintained group.

I believe I've come to the end of an era. The Friday Chores are ... no more. Maybe I'll only do Those Chores every week and a half ... or two. And I won't 'save' them for a Friday. I'll squeeze them into a mid-week-day and get the job done before the weekend.

Friday is ever so much sweeter, when the house is already clean. Or ... you just don't care anymore.

One Step Out of the Norm

I can't have my breakfast smoothie and coffee this morning. I'm at the tail end of a 12 hour fast that is required before I get some blood work done today. So I'm just a bubble off centre at the moment.

I don't jump out of bed thinking of my breakfast. But I do jump out of bed thinking of exercise (and water) or writing (and coffee). "Nothing to eat, drink or smoke for 12 hours" is what I was told. The eating and smoking part is a cinch. Drinking? I've had a little tickle in the back of my throat and an unquenched thirst since just before this small fast.

It is the small things that I associate with that cup of coffee. It isn't the flavor of the coffee itself - it is the good feelings that I get as I go about my 'I'll just grab a cup of coffee' rituals.

I grab a coffee as I sit and enjoy my favorite morning reading. I grab a coffee as I blog, as I email or as I write a letter. I make a cup of coffee if I'm chatting on the phone at length or if someone drops by for a visit. Coffee is simply associated with things that make me relaxed and happy. It isn't the coffee I love, as much as the things I associate it with.

As I sit here and type this decaffeinated message, my fingers are hitting the wrong keys and my words feel sluggish. When I stop to think about what I'm going to write next, I don't have my coffee to sip on. It's just me and the computer.

I love the little rituals I have in my life. There are many things that I do, that signal down time or work or creativity.

I like to nurture my 'creative side' before the day begins. So I write (and have my coffee).

I like to set goals for what I hope to accomplish in the day. Food and drinks are not a part of the work cycle of my day.

I like to clear my vision of 'work' and I declutter the day that I lived as the day winds to a close. I like to sit still with my supper and savor every morsel.

I like to put my feet up and relax as the evening unfolds. I grab a book and something to nibble on and my day is complete.

My reward system is definitely food and drink related. Coffee in the morning, water throughout the day. But food ... don't even let me think about that. I've still got 3 hours before I can fulfill that daily requirement!

It's good to take a walk on the wild side now and then. But just let me take my coffee with me ...