It’s nearly the middle of April and I am desperate, desperate for spring. I pace around the house looking at projects I want to get going on, corners I would like to scrub out with a toothbrush (yes, it’s come to this!) and the Pantry-of-Shame which is overflowing with partially full boxes of crackers, raisins from seven years ago and an unattractive waterfall of plastic bags. Every time I open the door I am ashamed and antsy to tackle it but when the weekend unfurls and time presents itself, I become strangely busy with other things and cannot bear the thought of committing an entire day to those little screws of paper with three pieces of macaroni in each one, gack …
I’m also watching the same pattern of promising myself, really hard, oath-taking promises here to do something (exercise; eat better; clean out the effing pantry) and then I watch myself not following-up.
This is not like me to procrastinate like this (or, is it) and I’ve become extremely frustrated with myself.
Of course The General should share in this blame, hugely, because he is always trying to make tea or offering excellent snacks and luring me to come and sit by the fire with him and generally (no pun intended) walking around looking appealing. Plus, there’s also a reclining, opium-denned, Siamese installed there, patiently waiting for me to rub his feet.
(The Siamese’s – not The General’s).
And I will do this because he likes it so much! His paws are like tiny leather gloves, little circles of buttery softness in my hand.
(A good friend once observed that “Siamese cats are like super model girlfriends; gorgeous yes, but extremely high maintenance.” )
Anyway, yesterday was a wonderful day although again, I really got nothing done. We did listen to a fascinating talk on the radio about Viktor Frankl whom I have long admired and ate our homemade frittata on a little table in the living room still in our dressing gowns, sipping coffee from Talavera cups I bought in Mexico; all of this is heavenly to me and I am so happy and grateful to have this kind of intellectual peace restored in my life or perhaps more accurately, in my life for the first time, since my Starter-Husband was usually more excited about listening to this type of thing.
Anyway, here’s the point: everything takes time and like everyone else, I am constantly having to choose how to spend it whereas a Retired General, can simply just start all over again tomorrow with another fresh set of hours before him. Double Sigh!
I think the key is for me to bunk off and do whatever I want now and then – and not feel guilty.
Unlike Heaven, the pantry can wait.
(Speaking of heaven, check out the pottery store below where I bought my cups!)
The atmosphere in this store was unlike anything I have ever experienced and every piece so beautiful; very strange to report, it was like coming home in there.