How to spend a day . . .

Its cold. Its wet.  And every few minutes it gently nudges my arm.  Dare I open my eyes.  To do so will result in a dance and my day will begin in earnest as I try to keep her quiet enough that she doesn't wake up Todd while I put my slippers on and sneak out of the room, all the while trying not to trip over crazy dog turning around in circles.  Why do dogs do that when they are happy . . .  turn around in circles?  It is the dog equivalent of hand clapping I  believe  . . . I slowly open one eye and the dance starts.  I'm up.

Mitzie barrels down the stairs as I pop into the bathroom to do my morning ritual.  She waits by the bottom step for me in great anticipation.  She does this every morning and as I reach the bottom step, she prances back and forth in front of me, weaving and ducking, and almost nibbling at my toes.  She is so happy . . . . she runs to the back door, tail wagging.  It is routine only because all she does is pop out the door and do an about face.

Its Denta-stick time.

I give her the stick and she runs to the lounge, laying down to eat it with glee.  I stand at the back door and look out at the rain that is falling.  Silently giving thanks for the gift of another day.  I grab my diet coke and go into the lounge myself.  I sit on the sofa and say my morning prayers.  I have much to be grateful for.  A cold and cough that are lessening in their ferocity, love, a roof over my head . . . the list of blessings is endless. I grab my iPad and check my messages. Nothing important. I grow some wheat and corn, gather eggs, produce goods, sent my airplanes off.  Its a game . . .  I enjoy it for about 10 minutes and then wonder at the time wasted.  I must check my e-mails.  I do this every morning  . . .  wondering if I have anything from family, from my editor, from anyone other than Kraft, Betty Crocker, or Mr Food . . .  I don't.  I try to decide if that is good news or bad news.  I decide it is good.  No news is always good news, isn't it?

I take a cursory glance through facebook, and then I post my instagram

and tweet my tweet.  Just a food picture.

but I enjoy it.

I scratch Mitzie behind the ears as she stands next to me.There is 

a great comfort to be found in

routine.

I write my blog as I drink my diet coke.  I don't always know what I am going to write, but I write every day.  It is a discipline developed, a labour of love. I enjoy it, this penning of my thoughts and feelings, an online journal of sorts.  I am still amazed that anyone wants or takes the time to read, and my heart still thrills at every comment. I appreciate them all.  What once were just alphabet letters on a screen have become bone and flesh . . .  people, friends, acquaintances . . . I care for them . . . I love this act of communication, this sharing with each other, this back and forth dance of interest and caring. It has meaning to me.

The nose prods again . . . its breakfast time

she is relentless in her desire

to get me to do what

she wants

. . . 

I cave

Breakfast is adminstered and gobbled up and that shiny wet nose is wiped clean. She always gets it so dirty when she eats.  She does not like the cleaning, squirming beneath the damp cloth like a child but I am persistant and it gets done.  We picked up several different brands of shortbread biscuits when we were in Scotland.  I decide to do a taste comparison for my own breakfast.

Naughty I know  . . . but I come

to the conclusion that

not all shortbread

biscuits are

equal

...

There is a clear winner, and . . . . its Walkers.  Both in texture and smell . . .  and in taste to be honest, and I wonder why that is.  How can the mixing of flour, sugar and butter bring such different results. It shouldn't but it does. Walkers is the best. Not too hard. Not too soft. Not too crumbly. Nice and buttery with the right amount of sweetness. So now you know. You can rest easy.

Todd is up now and comes downstairs.  (Don't ask. Its the first photo that came up when I put his name into google search. I found it amusing.) We have our morning hugs, our questions, sleep well?  Plans for the day, etc.  Of course some belly scratching is involved.  Mitzie's  . . .  not Todd's nor mine.  Family prayer.  Then we both get washed and dressed, buffed and puffed, etc.

Our day begins and after his own breakfast and walking the Dog, Todd takes himself off into town.  I have a cheque to be deposited into the bank from a recipe I sold to a magazine. (yay me)  Since they changed the bus station location, and with my knee the way it is, this is a chore that will fall to him until things improve. I don't mind  . . .  well, not that much.  Our central bus station has moved from the centre of the city now to the outskirts . . .  basically the boondocks.

Its quite attractive, incredibly modern and stream-lined . . .  there's grass growing on the roof.  At a cost of millions, it is very nice . . . but it is so far from . . . EVERYTHING.  The mind boggles. If you are limited in your walking ability you are snookered. The other stop was so much more convenient.  To get to my bank now, I have to walk the width of the whole city centre and then some.  It is the same if I want to get to spec savers, the chemist, city hall, the council offices . . .  the market.  I am sure the market is suffering.

Todd goes into town and I do some cooking.  I cook every day.   We have to eat every day, so I cook every day.  I make a banana cake with some bananas left from before we went on holiday.  They are nicely blackened.  Those make the best cakes.  I do some laundry.  I ponder what's for lunch/dinner.  I find some chicken breasts I want to use and so then a search and thought goes into what I will do with them.  It is decided and I proceed.  We like to have our main meal about mid-day. It is what works for us.  It was so odd when we were in Scotland.  Our main meal was always at 7 PM, which was late for us, however tasty it was.

I hoover and dust.

Todd gets back from town and we sit down and eat.  Crispy chicken salad.  I have added a baked potato for him, and he also enjoys a piece of the cake.  The trick it to make sure he doesn't lose any weight, while I do. It is a difficult balance.

Our landlord arrives and the back gate is fixed.  It was literally falling down, making everything insecure. Lets hope it lasts this time.  Basically it needs replacing, but these things cost big money and bear thinking about.  We don't want our rent going up.  If it did we would have to move and we don't know how we could afford to do even that.  Living so close to the line limits your choices really. That is retirement when you have not had good careers and private pensions to fall back on.

We decide that we need to change the fish water, so water is prepared.  I load the dish washer, and then we do the job.  They all managed to survive our being away.  It is remarkable really.  You buy a special block of food and pop it into the tank and it releases so much each day. It worked well.

A bit later the doorbell rings and it is a friend from church, with a lovely bouquet of flowers for me and a visit for us both.  He is wanting to help Todd with the yard work.  There was a time we would have poo poohed such a suggestion, but not now . . . it is welcomed with open arms.  That is a mighty big hedge to keep clipped. we need the help, and gratefully accept the offer . . .

 

The flowers get put into a vase. They're so pretty and it was a lovely gesture. I tidy up my yarn. I have so much of it.  I need to sort it out really, but I am having so much fun with all my little projects.  The latest is a cath kidston inspired blanket . . .

It is inspired by this.   I am in love with it.  Its a great project.

The doorbell rings again, and it is our friend Peter Lee.  Audrey is in the care home now.  They had thought last weekend they might be losing her . . .  but she has rallied and is doing well now.  Such a concern for him.  Keep her in your prayers.  It is hard to see someone you love fading in front of you.   Our other friend Brenda, her husband Billy has only been given a few weeks now.  He has had leukaemia for a number of years, but is now losing the battle.  The end, when it comes, will now be a blessing.  It has come down to Quality versus Quantity, and there is no quality left now  . . .  it is so sad to see. Please keep them in your prayers also.

A few games of Gin rummy, doggie cuddles and telly, telly and doggie cuddles.  I make us some toast.  Todd enjoys his with butter and marmalade.  I have cheese spread on one slice and peanut butter on the other.  It is Vogel's Sunflower Seed and Barley Bread. My favourite.  Nutty and nice.  Small corner tidbits are administered to a certain furry family member who always waits patiently in anticipation of the same. This is our supper . . .

The Gilmore Girls . . .  it is our second time watching through the series.  We are nearing the end of Series Five . . .  again.  We both enjoy this show so much.  Perhaps it is our longing for small town American life.  Romanticized of course . . .

Time for bed and our nightly routine.

Washing and changing into

our night clothes.

Family prayer

...

We both read, I watch an episode of MadMen on my iPad as Todd drifts off, reaching down to stroke a silken ear every now and then.  I turn off the iPad and I too, drift away  . . . 

Another day has been spent, and now  . . . 

another begins.

A thought to carry with you  . . .

.° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
 *.˛.° ˛°. . 
˛Strive not to be a success, 
but rather to be of value.
~Albert Einstein  •。★★ 。* 。

Spiritual Enlightenment

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Crispy Chicken Salad.  Light and delicious, with a punchy lemon and parmesan dressing.

Have a great Wednesday.  I am off to the Dentist for my bi-annual check-up.  It's amazing how quickly they seem to come around!  Along the way of your day today, don't forget!

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And I do too!