The Need to Dream

June 9, 2016

"Kids playing together and simply getting along, going with the flow, challenging their limits, inventing their own games, singing their own songs and turning drab little pebbles into something beautiful in their minds is what "being a kid" is all about. Yes, it was a blissful kind of morning."

Those were my thoughts at the end of my daycare day exactly one year ago.

As I read the paragraphs that preceded and followed this moment of bliss, I was reminded of the challenges we were facing on a daily basis. I was wearing out. But I still found these "heaven on earth" moments within our chaotic days.

It has been seven months since I worked my last day of daycare. Seven months to refocus, restructure and recreate my life, my goals, myself and my dreams.

That sounds a little more romantic than the reality.

I have been lost more often than I have felt grounded. There is a conflict between feeling over-committed and underwhelmed all at the same time. I need to live a life where I feel like I am making a difference. In doing so, the self talk within my brain is over critical, harsh, demeaning and I am about the worst boss I've ever worked for.

I need to rebuild my reserves by carving out quiet time to recharge my battery. Yet when I have extra time on my hands, I waste it. I am not making effective use of the time I crave so much.

My most favorite place to be has become on the highway between my home and Mom's. I am forced to sit still with my thoughts, stay awake with them and not numb them with any form of technology, food or sleep. I am wide awake, alert and conscious. I love that feeling. I may have become addicted to driving in order to keep my focus "in my own lane".

I miss being home.

Thus, I have started romanticizing about days gone by. I loved having my work come to greet me in my home each and every day. The dress code was right, my feet were comfortable, extreme weather conditions didn't affect my day. As long as the furnace was working, our roof sheltered out the elements of the weather and we had food in the fridge, I had everything I needed right within these very four walls.

I miss my walls.

I have often walked through my life feeling immense gratitude for "my walls". A home where I felt safe, happy and protected from the harsher elements of life and the world around me has always centered me and made me feel whole. Even during the toughest days at daycare, I found my solace within these very walls.

I am hopeful summer will lessen the load I've carried throughout this past winter. I am starting to look up more these days. Up towards the sky, as I watch the birds. And out towards the great beyond as I keep my eyes open for wildlife of the four legged kind. Unfortunately I have spending far too much time looking down, in an effort to avoid the tent caterpillars which invaded our world the past several weeks.

The tent caterpillars are almost at the end of their season. They are spinning their cocoons and entering a phase of dormancy before they come back to life as winged creatures with a whole new vantage point.

Perhaps my need for solitude is my way of cocooning myself so I can find my wings again. Maybe my focus on birds and their young families is nature's way of reminding me to look up and be aware. It may be that my attention is being drawn towards new life as a reminder that there is something new and exciting ahead.

I have lost my ability to dream. I miss my dreams. I may have walked around with my head in the clouds as I dreamed my little dreams but those very dreams propelled me into living a fuller life and a happier existence.

I see a quiet weekend at home in my future. I do believe I need to find my little place in the sun, grab an empty notebook and dream a little dream.

I miss my dreams...

Just Write

In an effort to rekindle my brain to fingertip connection I am trying to reformulate my morning writing habit. In an effort to keep my brain from going to mush, I replaced writing with word and number puzzles. Puzzling isn't the worst thing I could do but formulating cohesive sentences out of the meandering thoughts in my brain is probably where I need to concentrate my efforts. So here I am. Again.

I'm feeling the wear and tear of my week. It has been a short work week but it is still taking a toll. It isn't awful. I'm heading off to work this morning without that pit in my stomach so that is a good thing.

Why the pit? Is it because I'm walking in new and unfamiliar territory within a familiar job? A little bit.

I do like the challenge of learning something new, applying what I know and expanding on it is exactly how I like to roll. It isn't the learning that is getting me down.

Is it the job? A little bit. I like numbers well enough. We get along fine. Errors can be found. There is right and wrong. I like balancing to zero. I love solving a number puzzle. There is a challenge there that I enjoy.

But I don't love numbers. They are too calculating. They are demanding at times. I like to walk away from that world and walk into the real world where life is many shades of gray and every color under the rainbow.

I like looking up and out into the world. I like developing relationships with people. I like knowing a little piece of my day has made a difference to someone outside my own tiny little circle of "me".

Perhaps that is the part of my number job that has me hooked. I do like the person I work for. I would never abandon her. But there are many times when I would just like to walk away from a day and return with a fresh new slate on a brand new day.

Perhaps that is why I took the opportunity when I found it yesterday.

I finished my coffee and was dealing with a nasty bout of "coffee breath". I had some gum in the car AND I had some shredding to take out to the garbage. I took a quick work break and ran out to my car for a piece of gum. I literally walked away from my day and it felt good.

It was when I was walking back to the building when life tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me of how quickly things can happen.

A couple in a car were coming out of the parking area and were waving me on so I could walk pass. I didn't need to cross their path, so I happily waved them along as I tried to indicate I was going the other direction. I was cheerfully waving when WHAM! Down onto the pavement I fell, as I literally fell off the curb.

I went down. Way, way down. I landed on the heels of my hands and my elbow. I wasn't flat out but I was close enough.

I jumped up and immediately started laughing at myself. The poor lady in the car was aghast that I had taken a nose dive right in front of them. Again, I merrily waved them along assuring them I was just fine.

I took a several steps before I dusted myself off and headed back to work. Later in the day, I noticed I had scraped up my knee. I was over-the-moon relieved when I realized I could have ripped my new capris in the tumble. My skin will heal. Finding a pair of capris that fit is a whole other story.

In the matter of one nanosecond, things could have been so different. My mom and my sister recently broke a wrist in a similar but different kind of situation. One innocent tumble and "snap". A joint was broken and their mobility was limited by a cast for the next six weeks.

One second, a person is grumbling about their lot in life. The next, "anything" could happen.

Accidents are called "accidents" for a reason. No one plans for them to happen. Then POOF! Life can change in an instant.

So I will pack up my tender knee and haul it off to work today. The day's challenges aren't pounding in my chest before I walk in the door. For that, I am very grateful. The person I work for has things coming at her from every direction and this is not a relaxing and easy time for her. I can relieve some of that burden. Just by showing up. So I shall.

I guess I do make a difference at my "numbers job" after all. And this is why I would choose to work here no matter what my bank balance is.

I'm very fortunate. Not only did my wake up call result a mere skinned knee, but I go to work each day with the knowledge that I'm quietly making a difference. That's more than money can buy.

Now, if only I can reduce my work week to three days I'll have it made in the shade! I am feeling rather "rich", after all...

In Memory of a Mother Duck

The wonders of nature have been forefront in my mind this year as I have travelled through the months. I've spent a fair number of miles behind the wheel of my car and the landscape around me has evolved from frozen and white to the various stages of spring. My last trip, Mother Nature was really outdoing herself. The trees had come back to life, the grass in the ditches was waving in the wind and the birds were out in full force.

I love watching the birds. It starts with those V-formations in the sky as the Canadian geese head northward, spotting ducks swimming and diving in the sloughs, the hawks as they soar in the wind and even our hardy birds that weather our Canadian winters seem a little more playful as the summer weather starts to return.

I was on the road bright and early this trip and the birds were out for an early morning stroll across the highway.

I was reminiscing about an unfortunate incident from last year when I was driving home on a busy summer Sunday. I was going highway speed when I noticed something long and low to the ground in the distance. It looked like something akin to a big garbage bag wafting across the highway when I first noticed it. By the time I drove up and saw it was a mother duck and her ducklings crossing the highway, it was too late to do anything about it. I had cars coming up behind me and the only thing I could do was take my foot off the gas and not make any sudden moves.

I felt ill as I looked in my rear view mirror to see the mother duck went down behind me. Her young little family was little more than a blur when the next round of cars came upon them as quickly as I had. The feeling and visual of that little duck family is still vivid in my mind a year later.

I was thinking of this little family on my quiet morning highway drive when I noticed something on the highway ahead. Having the highway to myself, I had the luxury of slowing down before I approached whatever it was. Sure enough, it was a pair of ducks. Two adults this time. They were walking along the highway in the lane I wasn't in, so I had the opportunity to appreciate them as I coasted past them. As I got close to them, they simply flew away. They flew.

Yes, of course! Ducks can fly. When these two adult ducks had no one else to consider but themselves, they simply flew away. My mother duck from last year didn't fly away. She didn't abandon her family to save herself. She stayed where she was, at the head of the line of her family and "took the hit". She sacrificed herself for her children.

At no point since my duck accident last year, did I even consider the fact that the mother duck could have flown away the moment she realized her life was in jeopardy. It never even dawned on me. Until these two adult ducks, without a family in tow, simply flew away when I got too close.

I was still in awe of the wonder of "motherhood" in all shapes and forms when I saw something off in the distance. This time, it was a goose family. They are taller and stand out much better than a low lying duck does and this time I (once again) had the luxury of a quiet highway to slow my pace and even brake as I got closer.

A mother goose, four little goslings and a father goose bringing up the rear crossed the highway safely. When they had made it to safety and I drove past, the father lifted his wings and swooped up off the ground in what I feel was a "thank you wave".

I may not have realized what was on the horizon if it had not been for that mother duck and her duckings last year. The mother duck who lost her life for the love of her family last year has made a lasting impact within me.

I think of that mother duck often. I still quietly mourn the loss of her and her family. If only she had known not to cross the highway during peak hours, she may have been saved.

She did not die in vain. A mother will literally take a bullet to save her child. Whether they are human or a bird or many other living creatures.

I was telling my mom this story and we both marvelled at the wonder of motherhood. As our visit progressed, we started talking of mother cats and Mom mentioned that the tom cats will kill the kittens. "Once the mother has kittens, she will have nothing to do with the male so the tom will try to kill the kittens to get her attention again." "Hmmm..." I replied. "I'm even more like a cat than I realized."

I think I'd rather think like a duck.

Trust Issues

I bought a new-to-me car a few days before Christmas last year. I was basically unemployed at the time. So was my son. It was a decision made out of necessity (or so I thought). I bit the bullet and bought a car I felt I didn't need in the hope that having two cars would buy us the freedom required for us to spread our wings and grow.

Within two weeks, my new car and I would take our first highway trek together. I was still filled with anxiety over the money I had spent, driving a car I did not know well. My car and I didn't have a history together. It was a brand new relationship between me and my car. It was tough going.

My previous car had abandoned me on the side of a busy road only a few weeks prior to this purchase and suddenly I didn't trust anything with four wheels. If my trusty steed had let me down, how could I begin to trust a vehicle I didn't even know?

We have had some rocky roads - me and my new car. My mechanic and I became well reacquainted as I had him investigate every little concern I had. I was just beginning to think I could trust this new set of wheels when I discovered I needed "a new set of wheels". Four summer tires to be exact. 

This purchase sent me down yet another road of discovery which was a road I did not want to travel. But travel it, we did. And by the time we reached our final destination, I was beginning to feel like I was starting to know this new car of mine. The more I invested in this relationship, the more I began to trust it.

There is something very comforting about four brand new tires. I've never appreciated new tires before. Possibly because I only replaced them on an as-needed basis. I bought my tires two at a time and rotated the tires to ensure the new tires were where they needed to be. But four brand new tires all at once? I admired them. I enjoyed the feeling of those tires between me and the pavement. I appreciated the new tread and I started to feel safe within this relationship I was building with my car.

As a "gift", my car received a thorough cleansing of the lubricating kinds. The transmission, radiator and oil were all flushed, new fluids coursed through the "heart" of my car and we were set to travel many more miles together.

I sat in my new-to-me car last night as it received the third oil change since our relationship began. Yes, logged a lot of miles - 13,451 km's to be exact. When my oil changer showed me the cabin air filter he changed, my heart sank. I honestly thought every conceivable nook and cranny had been checked, changed, cleaned &/or replaced. The condition of this filter was atrocious. It appeared to have filtered everything but a dead mouse.

I hope my car appreciates all I have done for it and rewards me with approximately 13,451 km's of worry-free miles now.

We have spent a lot of time together and I am really starting to bond with this hunk of metal. I am comfortable behind the wheel. I appreciate every mile we travel together. Each and every time we make it safely to our destination and back home again, I feel my car trust issues starting to fade. 

The freedom this new car has brought into our lives has been immeasurable. My son inherited my old car and that car has given him what he has needed to get him to school and back, then to work and back. It has given him what he needs to be independent, while me and my new car have been bonding over the many highway miles we have travelled together. 

I despise this dependency I have with my car. I miss my old world where my work came to me and all I needed my car for was to run errands and make the occasional trip. 

My new world consists of a life where I must leave the house and drive off to earn a living. I miss being home. Each and every time the lawn is mowed, all I can think of is the waste. We have a house and yard that are not being utilized. But they still need to be maintained. 

I was chatting with my son yesterday and heard myself say that all I want is a life where I am not concerned about money. I just want to have what I need and not have to worry. 

Then I stopped and reminded myself that "that" is exactly what I have right now.

I spend money that needs to be spent. There is not one job I have that I would give up if money was no object. I go out to see Mom whenever I feel the urge to go. I have a pick up and go life, where my priorities are straight and I'm living a life without regrets. 

Having all the money in the world would not change a thing. In fact, the one and only thing it may affect would be my ability to go out and buy a brand new car. But do you know where that would get me? Exactly where I was at the beginning of this post. I would have to learn to trust another vehicle once again. Brand new or used - my trust issues with anything that is new to me is a growing curve. I don't like change. I have the ability to adapt but it is uncomfortable, scary and costly.

Do you hear me, "Life"? I like things as they are. I appreciate all I have and all the relationships I have built within this little world of mine. It is a good little life. Thank you.

I just reread this post and the sentence that truly says it all is this:

"The more I invested in this relationship, the more I began to trust it."

Isn't that the truth of any relationship? I believe that is a whole new post on its own one day. I hope I continue to rekindle this relationship with my writing and come back to that one day very soon...

Sluggish Brain

I've spent the past few hours catching up on the weekend's backlog of puzzles. At the onset of this catch-up spree, I couldn't see the answers that were staring me straight in the face. I gazed at the numbers on the Sudoko page and I was oblivious to the most obvious solutions. Two hours and fifteen puzzles later, I'm starting to see past the fog. But what do I see?

I see a to-do list cropping up before me. Unfortunately there are a fair number of re-do items on that list. Not only does the car need yet another oil change and a serious de-bugging cleanse, but when I woke up this morning, I slowly realized that I did not add the Round Up to the weed sprayer when I sprayed the weeds in the back alley last night. I simply labeled the container "Round Up", re-marked the line where the concentrate must be filled, then I added water. No Round Up. Just water.

The most perplexing part of all of this is that I did not figure it out sooner. Normally when I have added water to the concentrate, there is some foaming that makes filling the container a slow process. Not this time. No foam. Hmmm. I just thought I was getting lucky or smarter (maybe I was filling up the water slow enough this time). I was nearing the end of my spraying spree (I sprayed the fence line, along the garage, deck and the entire back alley) before I realized the liquid in the container was clear. Did I put two and two together at that point? No. I guessed that perhaps I had watered down Round Up that had already been diluted.

This is not the first time I've attempted to spray all of the above areas. I did this last week as well. Five days later, a few of the weeds looked tired and droopy but most of them were simply taller. What the heck? Perhaps I diluted some already pre-mixed grass weed killer that was left over from last year. I thought I remembered that particular container having a bit of weed killer left in it, but when the container was marked "Round Up", with a line where to fill the concentrate and another line where to fill the water I simply diluted whatever was already in the container.

Not only could I not see the water line through the completely solid colored container, but the container dripped terribly. I panicked at the thought of dripping Round Up all over the lawn so I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed the back alley until the container was finally empty so I could dispose of the leaky container. It took forever to accomplish the task but I finally completed what I set out to do. Only to discover the weeds were still looking pretty hale and hardy five days later. What the heck?

So I set out to re-do that task last night. With water. Just plain water, which was in a container which once held Round Up, so maybe there was a minute amount of Round Up which was mixed in with my now well watered weeds.

When I went to bed last night, I was almost certain I had been working with a diluted Round Up solution while I was trying to deal with Mom's weeds. I thought of the weeds I had sprayed. Did I just water them as well? Did I dilute Round Up which was already watered down? The only consolation I felt was at least all the weed killer that I managed to spray in my face (twice) while I was at Mom's was not as toxic as I believed at the time.

It was only upon my waking moments that I realized I had most likely completely forgot to add Round Up to the sprayer I had at home last night (not the one I had used and left at Mom's). So I guess I sprayed myself with toxic chemicals after all.

Upon reading the instructions of the sprayer and the chemicals I felt like I should have been dressed from head to toe in a Hazmat suit:

But when dealing with water, I guess there was no reason to suit up after all. I guess if I start glowing in the dark, I'll know I've been over exposed to chemicals.

So today, I honestly feel like I'm living Bill Murray's life (as seen in the movie "Groundhog Day"). Doing the same old thing I did yesterday, the day before and the day before that. I guess I can work on correcting my mistakes this way. 

My foggy brain is not just having trouble with crossword puzzles and Suduko. It seems I'm having a little trouble following simple instructions as well. When is too soon to start worrying about brain health? Maybe a few good nights of sleep at home will help. I'll try that for a while and see how it goes.

Keeping on Top of Ongoing Maintenance

The high cost of maintenance is weighing heavy on my mind, as it has been rather expensive to live my quiet little life recently. I've been adding the expenses up, comparing my income levels to a year ago and marvelling at the fact that I have been keeping afloat despite all extra curricular costs.

The grand totals of "all of the above" boggle my mind a little bit and although that is a little bit daunting, it is truly the time it takes to keep on top of life's maintenance that has been the heavier burden to bear.

Life has been very fair about handing out only what I can manage to deal with at one time. Financial burdens were offset by the ability to bear the brunt of the cost. Time obligations were offset by the ability to put high priority items first and foremost, while life remained calm and steady on other fronts.

Now that the dust seems to be settling after treading through some of life's uncertainties, it seems I'm more available for other relationships within my little world and feels good to have the time and energy to devote to other matters.

Tending to the maintenance of life is tedious, expensive (at times) and time consuming. But it is far better to take care of a little preventative maintenance than it is, to break down on the side of the road and wait to be rescued (a little metaphor taken from a real life moment).

After losing a tooth that could not be saved, I realized the importance of taking care of another tooth in jeopardy. One tooth lost = another tooth saved. Somewhat costly and a little time consuming, but in preventing another loss, I saved myself some pain. Both physically and financially. A tooth saved is a tooth well earned.

After being stranded on the side of a busy thoroughfare on our first cold day of winter, I have been taking preventative measures to ensure my chances of a car letting me down in the future is lessened. Perhaps I've taken this a little bit overboard, as my distrust for anything with four wheels has cost me a pretty penny and I'm sure my mechanic is growing sick and tired of my endless calls. But I've been putting on a lot of miles lately and I am trying to avoid another mechanical distress call in the future. Fine tuning all that ails my car before it breaks down is cheaper (and less traumatic) than the feeling of coasting over to the shoulder just in the nick of time. This is the price of independence. It doesn't come cheap but it is well worth preserving.

A case of frozen pipes during the second cold snap winter had to dole out was yet another lesson in preservation. I am not quite certain I have done all that can be done to prevent a future occurrence but my plumbers did their best to assure me all has been done, that can be done. One doesn't realize the gift of free-flowing drainage until one loses the privilege.

I do believe our third (and final) cold snap the winter season had to dole out did not result in any further maintenance. That came when the weather warmed up and the need to replace summer tires ate up the last bit of assurance I had, that my car troubles were behind me. But, in the grand scheme of things, a brand new set of tires has bought me peace of mind that a worn out set of tires could not provide. I have many more miles to travel and now I feel road worthy and ready to leave on a moment's notice. This is a very good way to feel.

While life's bigger ticket items were wearing out on me, little things were weighing just as heavily on my mind. Like the fact that they no longer carry the "purse/wallet" I have been using for the past decade or so. The replacement purse I had on hand started falling apart mere days after I started using it. Seams were not sewn securely; a rivet came undone; the tab on the zipper wore out prematurely (unfortunately my back-up purse sat unused for well over a year, so any guarantee was null and void).

I started searching for a replacement and the sense of dread that came over me equalled the feeling I had while I was sitting on the side of the road in the dead of winter, waiting for a tow truck. Only it was worse. At least I KNEW a tow truck was on its way. At least I KNEW a rescue and repair &/or replacement mission would set me back on the road again. But the lack of knowing I could find a replacement purse that would do the same job as the ones that had preceded it?! It was a fate worse than car repair.

I spent the better part of one of a day off, scouring the Internet for a replacement purse. I found a one that may or may not have worked, but it cost four times the amount of my "original". I found a second one that would have done in a pinch but it wasn't exactly what I wanted. So I searched some more. And you will NEVER guess what I found at my friendly, neighborhood WalMart!?! An (almost) identical purse to the original. It isn't perfect but it is far superior to the others I found after a day of searching the world wide web. So guess what I did?

Yes, I did. I bought "three". One for immediate use and two spares. I know a person who likes this purse just as much as I do and we were equally stunned by the fact that we could not replace that-which-worked with an identical item. So I spread the good news to her and picked up a spare purse just in case she can't find one.

I am feeling equally torn over not being able to replace my pajamas with a pair that is identical to the ones I am wearing. I thought I had pre-empted this disaster by picking up some pj's before they disappeared off the shelves. I should have bought a bigger size, due to style/fit revisions to something that used to be perfectly fine, but thankfully I did pick up a few new bottoms. So all I needed to find was some kind of comfortable night shirt to wear in place of the ones I've grown to love and wear out (yes, the fabric is literally starting to disintegrate). I searched high and low and found this:

I put it on yesterday and wore it all day. I think this may be my new favorite thing. I should go and buy all that remain, because I doubt I'll be able to come across this item in the future.

Keeping on top of life's little things is an ongoing task. The luxuries of life we have - like cars and running water are a gift unto themselves. So when they break down, I can try to appreciate the fact that they were a gift to begin with. But the little things? Like the need to clean, maintain and replace life's less major items? It all adds up. I like to have a stockpile of items on deck so I don't have to waste my energy replacing like items with more of the same.

Excuse me now, while I go online shopping for some back-up jeans now.

Messages From the World

The week has tuckered me out. I had three "hard things" to check off my calendar this week, with several weeks of equally "hard things" behind me.

Hard things are defined (by me) as anything that forces me out of bed too early, into the world, pushing my limits and making me uncomfortable. That encompasses a lot for a wannabe-hermit, like myself.

The best part of my daycaring career was not having to leave the house to go to work every morning (the second best part was the dress code - casual, comfortable attire and the lack of shoes). Sharing a roof with a houseful of little people made leaving the house a treat.

This past week was the first time, in the five months since my daycare closed, I actually longed for the good old days of daycaring.

Getting outside and breathing in the cool, fresh air of "spring" was one of our most anticipated and life affirming events of the year. The whole world became our playground. We walked, we talked, we noticed the robins, flowers, trees coming into bud and the color "green" returning to the landscape of our lives.

One of my favorite parts of daycaring was looking at the world around me through the eyes of a child. Even bug watching was akin to the way others may feel while watching the Olympics.

Ants are the hardest working insect I know and I loved noticing a tiny little ant carrying something ten times its size and pointing this out to my little humans. "Look at that ant! See what he is carrying?!" The lesson was almost anything is possible if you are willing to do the work and have the determined attitude of an ant.

I doubt my little two and three year olds retained the lesson but it was a good reminder for me as I went about my days of daycaring feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders at times, as I tended to our days, routines and child care.

One of my other favorite things about my daycare days was quiet time. I couldn't have done my job without it. We carved out a solid one and a half hours (longer, if naps prevailed) of stillness and quiet. No TV, no background noise. Just the sound of quiet, restful breathing as my little ones nodded off, one by one.

I remained still myself during that hour or two of quiet. I miss that quiet time in the middle of the day. I wonder how I could incorporate a siesta time into my new line of work. I do believe we would all do better by taking that time to unplug, recharge and reboot our systems BEFORE those very systems decide to shut us down by whatever means are necessary.

One of my present jobs is bookkeeping. My bookkeeping boss is an incredibly wise, hard working and determined lady. She reminds me of an ant, in the way she carries a load that is far too heavy to carry at times.

We have been having trouble with the internet going down a lot this past week, which plays havoc on the wireless printer's ability to print what it has been told when the connection is down. Left to its own devices, the connection did reestablish itself on its own but it took time. As I put together a trouble shooting guide to assist my boss in case this should happen over the weekend, I illustrated my guide with a step by step process of exactly what to do when things went wrong. It's a boring little process but steps "5" and "6" are key to the process:

5. Once you see this "Fixed" message, you are done. But it takes a while for the printer to catch up and print. Go grab a cup of tea and come back in a few minutes and things should take care of itself.

6. Take this as a message from The World. When things don't work, REST! UNPLUG! WALK AWAY! and REBOOT your system. It means you are working too hard!!

The world is always sending us messages and cues to stop and smell the roses. Or count the first robins of spring. Or admire the wonders of nature in all its glory.

I may not have a daycare any more but I must retain all I learned from that educational time.

• Stop and enjoy the view. EVERY day.
• Go for walks.
• Have "quiet time". EVERY day.
• Rest! Unplug! Walk away! Reboot!

Now I must unplug and take care of today's errands so I can come home and do "all of the above". I hope you do the same.