I’ve been home from work for the past week, burning off vacation time that I would have otherwise lost. I didn’t make any plans, other than to visit Mark’s Aunt Regina in East Texas. I was able to stop by Born2Be Wednesday and watch Sam prepare for regional Special Olympics.
Here he is working on part of his trail pattern
Sam and I took Regina out to lunch and then we took her on a drive to, and through, Mrs. Lee’s Garden.
Regina told us that, back in the garden’s heyday, there were many more daffodils than we saw on Friday. I can’t imagine. The Dallas Arboretum should have so many blooms.
Sam and I took turns taking photos of each other sitting on a rock in the sun. It was a beautiful day.
Then we went back to Regina’s house and helped her change a handful of lightbulbs, something we do for her in about three out of every four visits. Sam put a CFL in one slot, and that bulb just keeps on shining. But we can’t talk her out of the incandescents in the other spots. I forget how frequently those burn out.
This week at home, I raised puttering to competitive sport. Well, maybe not puttering as much as spending time at the bottom of the to-do list, taking care of those things that always seem to languish. The loppers got fixed, for example, as did the hose to the shop vac. Then a whole bunch of stuff got lopped or vacuumed.
Inside the house, I went through my annual ritual of cleaning out files to make room for other paper. I figure if I don’t buy more filing cabinets, then I can keep the paper collection down. It’s hard. I see so many things as source material, holding the potential to be the start of another great story.
While tending the garden, I got plenty of thinking time in. Then turned that into more personal writing time. That always feels good.
About ten years ago, I read a magazine story about how to keep the spirit of a vacation going after returning to the daily grind. It really improved our family’s quality of life to find lazy time together, occasionally staying up late to watch a movie or make an otherwise ordinary meal a grand occasion. A week at home packs its own wisdom for the rest of your days. I think I finally caught on.