my ongoing and relentless search for certain perfect items of clothing or shoes,
the merits of white-washing everything in your house,
curry nights and Sunday roasts,
motherhood and all its glory,
Pinterest (in general),
the pursuit of kindness,
comparing and contrasting working life to stay at home mother life,
missing old friends,
making fresh starts,
the book that is apparently in me, but is shy in making an appearance,
and on and on...
I am now nearly ten months into my 'retirement' and life is good. Well, what I have found is that life has all of its ups and downs, as it always did. What has changed is my ability to see them coming and roll with them. I must admit I am not much better at handling stress than I ever was; once a worrier always a worrier. Which is annoying because my worries have shifted from the minutia to the enormous - things like the state of society or my children's future happiness. Things which I can't for one moment hope to know or really influence. But I am doing my best. I am trying to embrace my quirks.
The novelty is still there of having a day stretch out ahead in the knowledge that I could, if I wanted to, read a book or watch a box set episode. I rarely do, as it happens. I seem to spend my time shuttling items around my house, running errands, thinking all the time. There is a beauty in the simpleness of my life, but there is also an impatience for the next thing; whatever 'the next thing' might be. I love having time and have become fiercely protective of it, guarding my schedule like the most well-trained secretary and never over-squeezing the day. But the mundane can get to me and I wonder why then I don't get stuck into the other ventures that are there for the taking. The business. Or the book. It turns out that after many years of hard work, I am now reluctant to work hard. Funny how it goes. It might be possible that the habit of working hard is exactly that: a habit. And one I have got out of.
It's not as if I am idle, but I am certainly not at full (even half?) capacity.
But it's OK - there is always the house building work which is going disastrously not to plan. It's a laugh or cry decision; I choose laugh. Or Boo's birthday next week (13!!). She got braces fitted and we spent the weekend trying every soft food known to man. Braces REALLY hurt. Or the perennial de-clutter. Or the entire back-catalogue of 'Gossip Girl'. Or walking on the beach, like I did this morning in a deserted 8.15am setting.
My thoughts turn to being 20 years old and having all of this set out ahead of me. Now I have arrived. I have the evening kitchen table covered over with kid's homework and jam jars from the morning and 'to do' lists and a glass of red wine...
Is this all part of the process?! Wisdom please :-)