On Wednesday I removed doorknobs from all seven interior doors in our house. I washed both sides of each door and taped all the hinges. Then I donned my paint clothes: jeans + my oldest son's cast off Arizona shirt + my daughter's oversized Champion sweatshirt. I was ready to paint. By Wednesday night I had finished the first coat.
Thursday morning I started again. I donned my paint clothes. There were places to recoat, and I found other spots of woodwork to prime and paint. I had two kinds of paint open, a roller in a paint pan, and two more brushes at the ready. Mid-afternoon I took a break to walk on the treadmill....
and the phone rang. It was my daughter. What was I doing for dinner? Well, with Ken out of town and little in the fridge or cupboard, I was having leftover quiche and morning glory muffins made with my last two eggs. That sounds good, she said. So I told her to come ahead.
Dinner was delicious. I made a pot of coffee. We were glad to have the time to visit and catch up....
and the phone rang. It was Ken. He was on his way home! He would be home on Friday! I calmly explained that there was no food here and he should grab a bite on his way home or plan to heat up a can of soup. He said that was fine and he would be home in less than an hour.
I still had painting to finish and cleaning up to do. My daughter left, my husband heated up a can of soup, and I went back to work.
It was okay that doors were still apart and paint cans were still open. It didn't matter that I didn't have time to vacuum up paint chips. Ken was exhausted and just glad to be home.
I finished cleaning up before I went to bed last night. I had made plans to run errands with a friend this morning. We delayed our start time to 10:00 when we woke to find the thermometer at -25 degrees. We had a good talk over our free mocha from McDonald's, and the rest of the errands went smoothly.
Meanwhile, Ken enjoyed a quiet morning at home with Leo and a week's worth of newspapers. We went out for a late lunch. As I write this Ken is making shepherd's pie for dinner, possible because he made a trip to the grocery store for milk and hamburger. He just served me a whiskey sour....
Lessons from this week:
Plans change.
I can follow through with what I want to do regardless of what happens with Ken's schedule.
If I let go of what I thought what would happen and enjoy what does happen, I am much happier.
A surprise whiskey sour is very tasty.
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5 comments:
Hope that you thoroughly enjoyed that drink!I sure think you earned it. How did the doors come out?
Learning to live in the moment and "go with the flow" -- good for you (and healthy)!
Whiskey sour...reminded me I haven't had one in a long time. A friend and I decided recently to try a martini. Have to say it's more appealing in the old movies than in real life. We're back to bloody marys, margaritas, and local wine.
Nice. A whiskey sour sounds so good right about now. Finding the threads of pleasure in amongst the everyday movement of time is wonderful.
I think it's amazing that you just about double doors and doorknobs when you moved! (four that I can count - though of them only one is closed, well, ever. Thank you cats.)
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