I’m not even going to tell anyone about this page, until I prove to myself that I’ll contribute more than once or twice. FaceBook has made it fun, to reconnect with people from all walks of life; and I miss journaling, but strain to read my own entries more often than not. I think this blog could be a good method of combining those two activities; and since I have quite a bit of down time in my current office gig, may also assist in the maintenance of my sanity.
This is the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and I’m really looking forward to the season. Chad and I relocated to Oklahoma just this past Spring, so this is the first year we’ll be near my family for all the festivities and spirit. I honestly – and sadly – don’t even recall the last time we were here for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. Once I opened Wags & Whiskers in East Nashville, the turn of the year became prime time for pet-sitting; so we spent the holidays working. Those days were long and often very cold; but the creation and continuation of that vision was, to this day, the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.
Just this past weekend, Chad and I re-committed ourselves to simplistic life on the lake; and as a result, came up with some great, attainable ways to enhance our efficiency – and I’m invigorated by the inevitable. Things as simple as adding some cabinetry to the apartment, and pulling a dresser out from under our loft (will make/made) the world of difference; rejuvenating the sense of home, and adding color to the palate we’ve become so accustomed to. Nieran has yet to embrace the new location of his bed (and indulgent Mother that I am, I’ll cave if it doesn’t take in the next day or two), and I still walk to the old location of the trash can for disposal; but I know these things are temporary.
Funny, what creatures of habit we all are. I remember living in on McGavock; while Chad was in Oklahoma and I was still in Nashville, working and trying to sell the house. I had no problem sleeping on the daybed in the living room and porting my bedding to and from a closet every morning and night. The computer set-up in the closet was actually more than sufficient, and I enjoyed the cleanliness that only comes with such desperation. The trash, however – therein lied the rub. We had moved the stainless bullet to Oklahoma, and shopping sacks were tucked under counters in order to function but minimally impact potential buyers’ intake.
Every time.
I wouldn’t hesitate to estimate that almost EVERY TIME I went to throw something away, I walked into the room the bullet had occupied only to shake my head in utter amazement at my diligent, programmed, "old dog" ways.
And look at that – now I’ve only half an hour of work left! This blogging may have to become an end-of-the-day ritual. Just enough time to post and go...
