Home

I've been away for a week. I never quite gained the equilibrium I feel by simply being "home" while I was away. I'm back. I'm relieved.

There is nothing quite like waking up in your own bed, to the sound of robins singing their good morning songs. Everything has a place and resides quite nicely in its spot at home. Home. Oh, I've misssed you so.

The desire to drive home mid-holiday and unpack the mounting accumulations that were amassing in the car was great. It would have been silly to do so. Waste a tank of gas and the better part of a day driving to and fro, unpacking and most likely tending to the lawn while I was here. No, it was better to stay put, veg out in the backyard with the cats and do my best impression of relaxing.

Yes, I spent the week in my Original Home, presently rented to and occupied by my daughter and her spouse. And the cats. 

It isn't my home. I spent my time in my own little suite downstairs that has everything I need (except a bathroom with a shower). It took a few days to settle into my space and find a way to make it work for me. The first thing I missed was my upstairs writing spot by a window. Writing my morning pages was painful.

I spent years in that basement "suite" and loved every moment of it. It wasn't like I was confined to the basement during my stay. I had (too many) errands to run, people to see and the only thing that dictated my day was the cat's feeding/medication times. Times that work for me. To be home by 6:30 - 7:00 p.m. was a gift. It fit right into my love of quiet evenings at home. But there was something missing. Windows.

I have windows, windows and more windows in my little home. As long as I'm not trying to block out the heat of the sun, my morning ritual is to open up the blinds/curtains immediately upon my waking. Daylight. Gazing outside. Watching and listening to the birds, the sky, the trees ... ahhh.

Yes, I spent time outside. With the cats. They are senior cats with little desire to scale the fence and escape the spacious back yard. But every now and again, one will make a break for it. So time spent outside was mostly relaxing but ever present of where the cats were. 

I could have and should have puttered in the back yard while the cats explored and sniffed out the outdoors. I devoted one day to yard work, worked up a sweat, a good covering of dirt & grime and had little desire to repeat the process. So I simply sat out there and felt just a tad angsty. I seemed to need to know the time, so had my phone with me. **Note to self - take your watch with you when you go on a holiday so you aren't so bound to that danged phone!!**

I accomplished everything I set out to do while I was away. I even managed to squeeze in a manicure and pedicure. I visited friends and family. I enjoyed every moment of the one-on-one socialization. But I was off. I wasn't home.

The return home yesterday was welcome. Unfortunately I had offered to work in the afternoon so the joyous occasion wasn't celebrated properly. I played the game "how much can I do before I go to work?" instead. I managed to put almost everything in its spot except the groceries that didn't need refrigeration before I ran outside and mowed the lawn, then washed the bugs off the car.

It was a race to the finish and I made it to work by 1:00 but my head wasn't in the work-game and I seemed to forget anything I thought I knew for a while.

I finally reaped the benefits of my efforts when I came home from work. Home. Home at last.

Be it ever so humble, there's no place quite like it.

On the Eighth Day

Ahhhh! Things look the same around here but they sure feel different after a relatively productive weekend.

TV off. One step in a forward direction. Start. Just start.

Yesterday began with "I'll just clean a blind". One blind led to another. And another. And so on and so forth. Clean blinds led to vacuuming screens and cleaning the inside of the windows.

I stopped for lunch. Most days that would have been the end of me but before I stopped, I parked the vacuum cleaner at the top of the basement stairs.

I'll just vacuum the stairs. Forward momentum didn't take me as far but it took me to the cardboard recycling bins a few times. I picked a few more weeds on my final trip home. 

All I had left to do with the day was to add a few side dishes to go along with the ham I had cooking most of the day (I like my ham dry and overcooked). I think I may have overdid it a little:

I had the mantra "If I make it, they will come" chiming through my head as the aroma of the ham slowly cooking wafted through the day. Please! Let someone drop by and take me out of my misery. I had done enough. I was ready to stop.

Maybe no one likes overdone ham the way I do. I have enough meals to take me through the week and beyond. My future self feels very taken care of.

On the eighth day, after a five day work week and a two day work weekend, I'm ready to head back to work to rest. 

Setting Intentions

Today, my goal is simply to keep the TV turned off until suppertime. My intentions? I simply hope one act leads to the next, which leads to the next, and next and so on. 

I am showered up and clean after yesterday's battle against the weeds, grackles and nature in general. Today? I hope to sit on the back step with my second cup of coffee then move inside to see what battles I can wage within.

Nature is one tough cookie. I didn't even attempt to pick up pinecones. The wind keeps blowing them off the trees. If I was a rich person, I would hire someone who had a crane truck to pick all the pinecones off the forest which surrounds my home. 

I would collect the pinecones, mulch them into bits, then spread them around the perimeter of the house as a decorative mulch. I thought I read that pinecones repel insects and rodents. I'm all for that. They also help retain moisture and deter weeds. Hey, maybe I could spread my make believe pinecone mulch over the lawn like fertilizer. With all the above benefits, what could I lose?

I think I'm onto something here. Pinecone mulch. 

But for today? I hope for even a fraction of the forward momentum I had and held onto yesterday. If nothing else, I know what I'm cooking for supper - intentions have been set.

Ham & hashbrown casserole anyone?

Just One Thing

My morning started by looking out the living room window, noticing the cement that used to lead to the front step. The door and step have been removed. Now the sidewalk leads to no where. I wondered if it continued further than I could see. So I went outside to sweep/shovel off the dirt ...

 (p.s. there was no more cement to uncover - what I saw is what there was)

That was at 6:00 am. One thing led to the next. "I'll just pick a few weeds," I thought...

  

  
More than six ice cream pails full of weeds later, things were looking a little less weedy around here.

I sat on the back step with toast and coffee at one point in the middle of my weed-picking. I went inside and had lunch later on. I was already dirty. What else could I do?

I finally re-washed the new living room window ...

 

... then washed the windows on the garage.

I washed grackle droppings off the side of the house, garage and step. I swept cobwebs off the garage and back step. Then, I swept a little more.

I finally washed the bird droppings off the swing and scrubbed the table. Nine and a half hours after I started, I'm finally all ready to relax and enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Except I'm all cleaned up now and don't want to go outside and get dirty.

Maybe tomorrow...

I love days when just one thing starts a domino effect of forward momentum.

Finally.

One Day Too Much

Today is the "other" fifth day. The fifth consecutive work day. Sigh. I can do this. I simply wish I didn't have to.

10 hours later ...

I did it. I made it through.

I didn't take very good care of my future self though. I abandoned this post in order to make myself a tuna sandwich to take for lunch. It was a good choice.

When you don't take care of your future self, let your present day self choose the best priorities.

Lunch trumped blogging.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Flitting Thoughts

So many thoughts,

so little time to flesh them out.

It seems only appropriate I illustrate this rather wordless post with my feathered backyard friends:

A grackle swooped in for a close up ... look at his evil eye.

Oh, the stories I could concoct.

Meanwhile, look at these little lovebirds.

Ahhh ... I do love my mourning doves.

The robins didn't drop in for a close up. 

I waited. Honestly, I did.

Not today...

Lost Days

I wasted a day. Though I could pinpoint a handful of meaningful things I did with the day yesterday, I allowed most of the day to slip through my fingertips like water. 

I woke up this morning to find the door unlocked and the dehumidifier running in the basement. On one hand, I didn't have any unexpected company drop in and the basement isn't as humid as I thought it was as the water did not reach the maximum shut-off level. On the other hand, where was my head?

The luxury of my Daybed Room with a TV, canister of chips and ready access to everything I need is I can wander upstairs and not bother coming back downstairs to lock up at the end of the day.

My new ROKU TV has a Little House on the Prairie channel. It runs absolutely nothing by Little House, 24/7.  That series takes me back to a simpler time - both the time period it depicts, the age I was when it first aired and a time when I watched reruns before I went to work. It is a show that simply lowers ones stress levels, blood pressure and (unfortunately) ambition levels.

I have this niggling thought in the back of my mind that I could/should/may end up working more than four days a week. Between summer holidays, changes at work and what is best for the office, I am almost certain I could work five days a week while I long for a three day work week.

The thought of giving up that bonus day contributed to my state of mind yesterday. Mostly? I blame the TV. Days when I turn on the TV first thing in the morning usually end up being lost days.

This weekend? If I do nothing more than keep the TV off until after supper it will be enough.

Morning Diversions

I messed with my usual routine this morning. I took advantage of the lack of wind in the early morning hours to spray weeds. That small onerous task threw me off my groove.

I fought with the weed sprayer but got the job done-enough. I don't know if the weed sprayer won the battle or if I did. I think it was a draw. 

I came inside, determined to scrub the chemicals off my hands when I caught sight of my freshly washed hair in the mirror. The morning humidity added a frizz and kink to my previously good-enough hair. Rats! "This!!" is why I don't walk in the morning.

An hour had been lost so I thought I'd skip my morning pages and go straight to blogging. I had reverted yesterday morning's blog to a draft because it needed some editing. I thought it would be a quick and easy post. Nope. Yesterday's thoughts were too complicated.

I needed to hand-write my three, 8-1/2" X 11" morning pages to filter the verbiage of the day-in-progress. I'm glad I did. I'm still no great shakes in the word department but my fingers are flying over the keyboard and I feel like I used to feel when I wrote. Energized and a little inspired.

Changing one part of my morning routine woke something up inside of me. Today. Being outside first thing in the morning is a good thing. Maybe that is worth considering.

The very first thing I did upon waking was open the upstairs hallway window. At the precise moment I opened the window, a mourning dove flew up and sat on the roof right beside the window. It stayed there until I ruined the moment and tried to take its picture:

Mourning dove wing in flight

It flew to the garage roof top to avoid a close up

Lesson #1 - stop and enjoy the moment before jumping straight into the day

Lesson #2 - don't waste the moment by taking a picture 

You Missed a Spot

We have a number of cool, dreary, wet days around here lately. I was happy for the reprieve from the demands of the sun but more appreciate of the bit of moisture we had. Not for the reason most people hope for rain, to nourish grass, plants and flowers, but to tamp down the dust-factor when I mow the lawn.

The lawn is so sparse, I am covered with a coat of dirt from head to toe, after mowing up a dust cloud that follows me and the lawnmower as I go. This dirt has to be hard on the lawn mower engine but it is the need for a shower after lawn mowing that is my motivation to find a way to limit the dust factor. 

The recent rain subsided a few days ago and I capitalized on the opportunity to mow before the wet ground turned to dust. Add the coolness of the day to the formula and it was a quick and easy mow. A half hour, from start to finish. That includes filling the gas tank and putting away the lawn mower. 

My kind of yard work. Short and sweet with minimal dust and sweat added to the mix. If it would have been nicer outside, I may have found an excuse to stay out and putter. But it was more about the "race" to me. How quickly could I be back inside and making supper? Lawn mowing barely put a dent in my after-work routine.

It looks like some sun and higher temperatures are in the forecast, just in time for the weekend. As much as I welcome the return of blue skies and sunshine, look at the first thing The Sun had to say to me this morning:

"You missed a spot!"

Taking Care of Your Future Self

I remember a time when my son came over to fix something around the house. He was looking around for (or may have brought) the tools required to do the job, when he found everything he was looking for all together in a spot in the laundry room. "Man, I take good care of my future self" he commented as he appreciated the foresight he had the last time he had tended to this task.

I think of this comment often as I walk through my little life. Taking good care of your future self is a much more optimistic way of looking at the same side of the coin, "Man, I hate always having to do this".

I go back to my training when I became a bank teller. It was highly suggested to always keep your work space tidy and organized. Knowing you always had the supplies you needed and exactly where to find them made life easier. This is a universal way of living life.

I have a back-up supply of the repetitive grocery, household, stationary and most car/garage items on hand. When I'm down to the second last item, it's already on the list so it's always there when I need it. 

I have a morning routine that doesn't change much from day to day. Morning coffee, morning smoothie, second cup of coffee, followed by some actual food item. Each phase of this little routine is followed by washing and putting away said cups/glasses/etc. As I put away each item, it feels like I've accomplished a small feat. Everything is back in its place and ready to go for the next morning.

My second job requires leaving the house an hour earlier in the morning. That lost hour is hard to regain so I do everything in my power to take care of my future self. As tough as it may feel to wash my hair the night before or make that lunch when I know I could squeeze it into the morning, I think of my son's words. I will be grateful for taking care of my future self the next morning when time is slipping through my fingertips.

Meal prep on the weekends; mowing the lawn when it doesn't feel like a convenient time; filling the propane tank when I'm already outside and dusty; any number of chores that feel like drudgery and I get little satisfaction or enjoyment from, I remind myself "Your future self will be grateful".

I know I need to incorporate some regular form of exercise into my routine and I have yet to make a change. The biggest obstacle I face is not wanting to lose any of my precious morning time, nor do I want to get up any earlier. I know my future self will be grateful but my present day self is pretty set in her ways.

It is so much better to frame things in a manner which makes it as easy as possible on yourself. What feels hard at the moment? Would your future self be grateful if you did it anyway? 

I'm Not Losing It (I'm just finding it later)

I have been somewhat frustrated at myself lately. I have a clear memory of where I put something, yet when I go to retrieve it? It's not there.

Case #1 - The Missing Umbrella

I remember where the umbrella was all last summer. It was in an out in the open space on the shoe rack. I remember winter's onset required a changing-of-the-footwear transition. I put the umbrella in a basket on the top shelf of the closet. That's the last thing I remember.

Baskets on the top shelf in the closet
(Can anyone else envision a black cat's eyes peeking out of the handle on the far left basket?)

Rain was in the forecast a few weeks ago. I thought I should be prepared and take my umbrella to work.

I looked in the baskets on the top shelf of the closet. Nothing. I checked any and all places I would put the umbrella in the car. Nothing. I checked behind the baskets and in the baskets. Again. I checked the basement shelves, in and around where I would have placed summer footwear. Not there either. I checked my desk drawer at work. Maybe I had left it at work. I re-checked the car. I looked in, under and around the shoe shelf. Nothing. I tried another day. Dumped the contents of the baskets, thinking the umbrella could be disguised in a "black-on-black" kind of way. 

My very wise co-worker told me, "It's exactly where you left it." Correct.

Life went on until:

Case #2 - The Missing Body Lotion Butter

I ordered it with my grocery order. Again - a few weeks ago. I could visually see myself put it away under something. I remember lifting something up and putting it underneath. I can feel the muscle memory in my bones. I remember.

What did I lift up? And where did I put it? I looked in all the logical places. Once. Twice. Once again, just in case I was seeing it but not registering it.

My brain is doing funny things lately. I ran into a neighbor who asked what we were working on in the yard. I confidently and assuredly said, "A deck." She was wise enough to question what my mouth said, when my brain undoubtedly said "Shed". My mouth betrayed me and said, "Deck". 

What?? It's no wonder I'm losing things. My brain is malfunctioning. I think I've got a few loose connections.

This morning, I thought I would look for the umbrella. One final time. And I found it. IN a basket - yes. But in a basket on a shelf in the basement. Not in a basket on the top shelf in the closet. I'll forgive myself for that.

Baskets on a shelf in the basement

Yes, I did look in the gray basket once but didn't see the umbrella.

Encouraged by this success, I thought I'd try my hand at finding my missing body lotion butter. I looked in all the logical places again. Then the illogical places. Finally I decided to look at the grocery receipt for additional clues. I must have put it with something else I was putting away. That was the only logical explanation left.

That's when I discovered I hadn't even bought it in the first place. What the heck? What in the world did I put away under something else (supposedly) in the cupboard under the bathroom sink? The only thing I can decipher is I bought body lotion and it was exactly where I "remembered" putting the body butter.

Body butter verses body lotion

A vast difference, despite the similar name

I have a small house. I endeavor to keep the excess to a minimum and mindful of where everything resides. 

Obviously, I need either a smaller house or less belongings. Or perhaps a bit of brain rewiring. It's shorting out on me just a little too often.

On a more positive note, I'm not losing it. I'm just finding it later.

Numbers

I can tell I have recovered from the tax season when my own personal budgeting and financial spreadsheets pique my interest again.

I have spent a lot of money this month. I have earned just as much. I was delighted when I realized the payment received for doing the bookkeeping job that has felt oh-so-hard-to-do covered most of my extravagances. 

I can't wait to sit down and let the hours disappear when I play around with different financial scenarios. Could I afford to work three days a week? How much does small town living really cost? How much should I be saving?

The more my head is intrigued by numbers, the less interesting the words that fall off my fingertips become. I am in spreadsheet mentality this morning. The words aren't coming.

Numbers and playing around with different ideas of where I really want to invest time, effort and money. Do I invest more into this two-story little house with a forest of pine trees surrounding the immense amount of yard and driveway I adore? Or do I consider the idea of searching for a more suitable bungalow with less outside maintenance?

The best part about playing around with numbers, mapping out different scenarios, creating a hopes and dreams list is it doesn't cost a penny. Until one makes a decision.

I love to dream. I may sit here in my little home surrounded by big pine trees (a handful of which have died and need to go), look out my windows as I look towards my tomorrows. 

Investing in my non-existent grandchildren (see yesterday's post) isn't an option. So I'll have to come up with other ideas.

Ugly Tasks - Almost Done

I am well past the 50% completion mark for all the government filings I have on my to-do-list. The weight is literally lifting off my shoulders as I type. I have an online course I must should complete for one of my jobs and poof!! I will have completed all the ugly tasks on my to-do-list.

All that will be left is spring yard work. It will be a breath of fresh air, literally, to tend to an outdoors task. I give it a month, and the eternal yard work will be an ugly task as well. But first thing in the spring? I look forward to it.

Zillions of pinecones. Zillions.

But listen to the birds as I scan the back yard. 

The birds are back and that is what matters.

Spring is springing!

Chirps in the Middle of the Night

Battery power is certainly a theme in my life at the moment. After my long winded post about charging system malfunctions yesterday morning, I was awakened by the regular chirp of a smoke alarm battery that had gone dead at 1:30 this morning.

My first conscious thought was, "I thought the alarm was powered by electricity. It can't be the alarm". The second thought I thought was, "I'll tend to it in the morning". No amount of ignoring the chirp worked. It was relentless.

This is when it is pretty handy to have a second adult with good hearing in the house. The past few middle-of-the-night-dead-battery alerts happened while I was still living with my daughter. She is taller than me and deals with the technical issues required to dismount, dismantle, open battery compartments, re-mantle and re-mount the offending alarms with ease.

I was on my own. I armored up and prepared for the challenge. 

I found a new battery, pulled a chair under the alarm and waited for the chirp to confirm I was where I needed to be. I wasn't.

The chirp was in the distance. So I stood at the top of the basement stairs and waited for the next chirp. I was colder than I was before. What is it about the acoustics of a chirping fire alarm that makes the task of hunting it down so hard? I went back upstairs to discover I have a battery operated fire alarm right outside my bedroom door. No part of my conscious memory was aware of its presence.

Thankfully, removing it from the ceiling was as simple as it should be. Looking up and trying to figure out how to dismount the electrical alarm on the main floor was incredibly hard on my neck. I was grateful for the lower ceiling height and ease of removal. My neck barely noticed the brief upward glance.

Then came replacing the battery. There were instructions. Very small instructions. Embossed writing of the same color as the plastic. In the middle of the night. Thankfully, the words "Battery Compartment" stood out and I was thrilled to discover I didn't have to dismantle the alarm.

One quick fingernail-under-the-compartment-door and I was in. Battery was simple to remove. It wasn't one of those snap-on 9 volt battery connections. I simply had to align positive with positive and I was ready to proceed. 

I barely installed the new battery when, "Chirp!". What?!? Hmmm. I couldn't close the compartment door due to a small movable plastic piece sticking straight up preventing closure and ensuring the user didn't make the mistake of ignoring it.

Battery out; plastic swivel part pushed down; battery back in (keeping small plastic piece down); the compartment door closed. Voila!

But a red light continued to flash. Oh no!! I found a back-up battery to replace what must have been a dead new battery. Before proceeding, I read the microscopic instructions. "Red light will flash every 10 seconds if alarm is not functioning"; "Red light will flash every 40 seconds when functioning properly".

I was 40 seconds away from confirmed success. I listened to the ticking clock in the background of the scene for 40 seconds. Flash!

Mission accomplished.

In the short span of an hour, all was right in the world again and silence prevailed.

My question is: WHY do fire alarm batteries go dead in the middle of the night? Always the middle of the night. 

My answer is: BECAUSE you didn't change the battery on a regularly scheduled date. I'll bet somewhere in the small instructions I didn't read in full, it probably states "Change batteries every six months". I just looked that up. I would have guessed every year.

The punishment for my crime was a middle of the night wake-up call.

As I toiled through this task, the episode of  the show "This is Us", where the camera pans to their open smoke alarm door, with batteries on their list, was prevalent in my mind. They forgot to buy batteries. The ramifications of this was waking up in the middle of the night to a house fire that was out of control.

I'm grateful it was simply a chirping battery that disrupted my sleep. 

Waging a War With Winter

I've got a case of Spring Fever verses Old Man Winter going on inside of me.

Our last blast of winter simply annoyed me. It was inconvenient, cold and down right nasty. If there must be snow at the tail end of March, the least we could hope for was a blast of warmth to melt it.

The temperatures are starting to rise. My determination to let Mother Nature take care of winter's (hopefully) last onslaught of snow is starting to gain momentum.

The wind that accompanied our snow was the most annoying of all. I cleared out the pathways beside the house, to the compost bin, the patio and garage. Twice. The wind kept blowing and it continued to snow ever-so-slightly. So I quit.

I shoveled out enough for my company to park. That was it. I was done.

I could have shoveled when I got home from work last night. But I didn't. I didn't want to. I didn't care. I am still rather annoyed and insulted by the last snowfall.

I'm starting to feel a little embarrassed. I took great pride in keeping the snow in check all winter. I didn't love the idea of shoveling but I felt a great sense of accomplishment after each snowfall. 

Winter lasted one snow storm too long. I still feel determined to wait it out. It is shrinking. I am going to win this battle.

P.S. The best part about this picture is the fact it was taken at 6:11 a.m.

Our increasing daylight hours are definitely working in my favor.

Guest Ready

Preparing for guests is truly a gift to myself. I do little other than ensure bedding, bathrooms and the house in general is fresh, clean and tidied up. Oh, and food. Prepare food. Simple, easy to serve sustenance. I do these things for myself but, more often than not, not all at the same time.

There is a potential I may have overnight guests. The possibility is there but certainty evades me at the moment (darn snow!!).

Thus, I climbed out of bed and directly into a forward momentum this morning. Washing sheets and a load of darks is well underway. I have two beds (out of three) guest-ready.

Meat is thawed for a make-ahead slow cooker meal. That will simmer as I clean bathrooms, dust and vacuum. I may get some soup simmering too.

If my guests opt to come today, I must shovel out a spot on the driveway for them (darn snow!!).

No matter what happens, I am truly the benefactor of this motivational push. I deserve clean sheets, bathrooms & house as much as anyone. I will reap the benefits of having some meals made ahead. It is a win-win situation.

Will clear snow for guests ... personally, "I know a guy (company) with a Bobcat" and I'll wait.

The Storm

                                             Yesterday                                                    Today

Presently

 

Yesterday

Presently

And yes ... it is still snowing.

Thankfully, reinforcements are coming tomorrow. I know a guy with a skid steer. Lucky me!

A Fresh, New Day

I swear the phases of the moon have something to do with my coping abilities. Or maybe it is as simple as a few new worries added to my unresolved living-a-life issues.

I started yesterday morning by writing down a list of the thoughts that were dominating my thinking. Recognizing the fast majority were "chronic" (ongoing, with no defined resolution in sight) with no new concerns added was something worth noting. More importantly, it was the three new topics added to the mix that was tipping the scales.

I ticked off seven of the nine tasks on yesterday's list of tasks to tend, with a few extra sub-heading tasks within the tasks. Most importantly, it was managing my new worries that made the biggest impact.

I made a few outbound phone calls. I made a few decisions. I gathered some facts. I ran all my errands while I was already out of the house. 

I did what was within my control. It all boils down to the serenity prayer. 

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

Yesterday morning, I wrote in bold felt pen "No control" after the "what then?" questions within my list of overwhelming thoughts. In other areas, I wrote "Action plan" when there were steps I could take to manage a concern - no matter how big or small. 

There is something empowering about those words - "action plan". The action could be as simple as finding out more information. Gathering intel to utilize at a later date. 

It's a fresh, new day. A clean slate. 

And it is Friday!

I'm 63 years old and still living for the weekend.

I'm 63 years old and still living.

That is what is worth noting.

Easy Come, Easy Go

I got a bill for $19.00 last week, to renew one of our cat's licenses.

I received a cheque in the mail yesterday for $18.86.

The number of times this has happened within my budgeting world are too numerous to mention. 

What I have noticed is when I watch my spending carefully, the income to expense ratio is often offset.

Our second cat's license will be forthcoming within the next month or so. 

If I don't receive a cash bonus to offset this expense, maybe it's time for the cat to move out...

I Think I Want to Start Smoking

Many mornings, while I am making my first cup of coffee, I gaze out of our kitchen window and see our neighbor on their front doorstep having a morning cigarette. She is doing nothing else. She is simply outside, gazing into space or nature or checking out the weeds in the flower garden for all I know. She is still. She is outside. She is smoking.

It is a serene sight. It makes me want to smoke.

There are a lot of pros to this idea:

• you must smoke outdoors (in most cases)
• the smoke acts as a natural mosquito repellent 
• your body naturally craves this forced down-time
• long, deep inhales followed by consciously exhaling
• it is a forced work break
• in social situations, it is a reason to step aside for a while
• it is a break as long as the cigarette lasts - not too long, not too short
• if I could smoke instead of eat, I could fit back into my clothes in due time

Yes, I know. The con list is longer, more logical and scientifically proven to win any debate on the matter. The cons win. Hands down. But what could a person substitute for smoking to gain the benefits?

Stepping outside, just to breathe the air, listen to the birds and watch the clouds is so alluring. Yet I don't take that one small step. It's too hot/cold/windy/rainy. There are too many bugs. The cats will want to go outside with me.

The only thing my body seems to naturally crave is food, coffee and bathroom breaks. I multitask whenever I do "any of the above". I turn on the TV/check emails/grab my phone or a number of other distractions when my body is simply telling me to STOP. 

The only time I catch myself breathing deeply is when I'm in way over my head within my little home office. I breath deeply a lot. Not the quite the same as taking that long, deep breath on our deck. At least I'm breathing.

I manage socializing when I must. In fact in most cases I actually enjoy it. Even more true, is the fact that those whose ears I am talking off may quite possibly wish I did smoke so I would know when to end a conversation. Inserting a natural pause into a social setting could benefit mankind.

When I do take a break, I either stop too long or not long enough. I grab a bite to eat, turn on the TV and either stop only long enough to inhale what is on my plate or I shut down entirely. On the days I stop cold, only the sound of a ringing phone, incoming text message or email spur me back into my office.

Replacing eating with a bright new habit would be such a boon. The comfort I get from chewing, savoring, swallowing and going back for more food really, really makes me wish I smoked. I have a feeling this is part of the allure into this deadly habit. 

Dancing. Those were the days. I would turn on the music and simply dance. I would practise dance steps, technique and/or new choreography. Music filled the air and I was lost in the moments. There was no room for any other thoughts when I was in the dance studio. It was like walking into Cheers, where everyone knew my name. Everyone was united in a common interest and quest to move to the beat of whatever music was playing.

It could be somewhat foolish looking to start dancing outside on my deck. But hey! "Dance like no one is watching" is something I've heard somewhere.

It is probably healthier than smoking.

P.S. The high cost of dancing, the great discomfort of wearing dance shoes, the need to update my wardrobe, my work schedule and the fact that my most favorite dance studio in the world closed down has eliminated dancing as a replacement for smoking. I may start smoking after all ...