It’s Sunday. We have turned our clocks back and are in the dark months. A few days ago we were out early—leaving home at 6:30 am—for an appointment and I remarked how the quiet streets reminded me of my morning commute when I was still working.
Gerry reminded me of what I used to say at this time of year. “It’s dark when I go to work and it’s dark when I come home.”
It took intention to experience daylight during the week in those years. Intention I didn’t often put into practice as I remained at my desk working, working, and working.
I’m thankful for those years, but also abundantly grateful for these latter ones when I have the gift of setting my own schedule for the most part.
Today, another edition of The Simple Woman’s Daybook to turn attention back to the ordinary things that make a rich life in these years.
Looking out my window I watch the hills across the valley as changing light from season to season creates shadows in the green of spring, the brown of summer, and—soon—the white of winter.
I am thinking I might dabble with this post all day because I’m getting a late start and, well, a lazy Sunday meandering through life and playing words seems fine to me.
I am thankful that our new pup, Murphy, sleeps through the night in his crate next to our bed and has since we brought him home a few weeks ago.
One of my favourite things the pumpkin pie scented candle I burn in my woman cave at this time of year. I’ve had it for years and only burn it in the autumn when I’m working in my office. It smells cozy and homey and, with the little stove humming in the corner, creates a lovely ambience.
I am creating a new routine. Or trying to. It’s astounding how a three pound dog can turn life upside down.
I am wearing the same thing I wore yesterday. And the day before that. Not necessarily the same physical piece of clothing (I do do laundry!) but a variation on the theme of black pants and a black shirt. One thing this year has shown me is that I really don’t need as many clothes as I once thought.
I am watching Midsomer Murders. We watch an episode most nights and have for months. I’ll be sorry when we come to the end of them.
I am reading Sensible Shoes by Sharon Garlough Brown. Still. Because I haven’t had enough reading time in recent weeks.
I am listening to the Morning Classical playlist on Spotify. I’ve tried to switch to Afternoon Classical a few times but I don’t know what whoever is thinking when they compile it because it’s not classical and it gets annoying after a short time. Morning Classical all day works for me.
I am hoping that it doesn’t snow for a long, long time. I know, I said I was ready and looking forward to it but that was before we got a new puppy.
I am learning to accept that, for now, my home has a “lived in” look.
In my kitchen there’s fresh bread on the counter and homemade soup in the fridge.
In my garden my Thanksgiving cactus is blooming. (Not technically my garden, but trust you’ll understand.)
I didn’t think I’d make it this morning, but here I am at the end after all. Time to wrap things up and do the day. Online church this morning, conversation with my daughter this afternoon, and in between the ordinary extraordinary things that make up a life.
Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.
A moment from my day
They’re not buddies yet (though Murphy’s all for it), but Maya is tolerating the new arrival even as she seeks space for solitude.