Happy New Year, everyone, and welcome to 2018!
I feel confident in putting this as a fait accompli, even though I’m writing this midday on 12/31/17 because I imagine most of you will be reading this in 2018, or as near to it as functionally doesn’t matter. I’m also confident that 2018 will arrive, which hasn’t always been the case.
It’s funny looking back at the turn of the millennium and thinking the whole banking/computer change from a two-digit year to a four-digit year was the worst thing that could happen… I look forward to the day when we can look back, shake our heads at the 2016 election, and trade our “where were you when you found out Trump was actually elected?” stories.
Until then, we do what we can to resist an increasingly authoritarian regime while still keeping our sanity. Thus, my take on this week’s topic at the SFF Seven: Keeping Your Sanity: 3 Things You Do To Stay Balanced/Grounded/In Control. Come on over!
A bit of found art – or found cuteness. This is a neckwarmer bunny that I’d set aside. When I walked past later, it struck me just how serendipitously it had fallen, making a very peaceful tableau.
More peace is always good.
In the mornings, when I feed the kitties, I stay to watch them eat. If I don’t, Jackson – younger, faster, and more ravenous – will finish his and head over to Isabel’s bowl. He’ll nudge her out of the way and, remarkably, she’ll let him. I keep thinking this will change as he’s no longer a kitten, but he’s at a year and a half now and she still cuts him that baby slack. So I stay and watch, keeping him away until she’s done.
She’s a delicate eater, precise and unhurried. It can take a while for her to finish. I make my coffee, take my vitamins, but then I have to simply wait. Isabel is also our guard cat and she hates any disturbance while she eats. Kitchen chores like unloading the dishwasher or doing dishes are simply out of the question. Once clank of a plate and she’s out of there. One turn of my back, Jackson will dive in and she won’t come back.
Once I tried bringing my laptop in, so I could begin dealing with email for the day, but it diverted my attention too much and Jackson stole the moment.
Thus, I’m forced to be quiet and still. Sometimes I look out the kitchen window to the back garden – a view I rarely take in, because any other time I’m in the kitchen I’m on task. Though I begrudged the time to begin with, it’s become one of my few “doing nothing” moments of the day.
Something I probably need more of.