Thursday, May 19, 2016

One Last Time

The front of my desk, in between the keyboard and the monitor (my monitor is actually my whole entire computer now, with a touch screen. It amazes me) is scattered with little slips of paper. They're actually the tear-offs from my Dilbert-A-Day calendar; I use their black back sides for notes. One says, "Ruth arrives." That's the scene that's up next in the current iteration of my novel. Next to that is one that reads "Fri Sept 16-Sun Sept 18" at the top (that's the dates for a conference I'm attending this fall; I had to book my flight this week) then "Fri breakfast, lunch, dinner, Sat Breakfast" and part of a grocery list on the bottom. That's for this weekend. The relatives start arriving tonight for my daughter's graduation, which is Saturday.

The slip beside that one is my to-do list for this week, much marked-up and added to. Today's schedule: 10 am ride with a friend; 11:45 lunch with my husband, 2:45 dentist. On the top is the list of unscheduled items I need to accomplish this week. I just crossed off the title of a book I had to review by Sunday because I wrote and sent it in this morning. I crossed off "organize shoes" because it isn't gonna happen.

Next slip is a crosspatch of squiggles and small words, where I was taking notes on my existing manuscript to be sure I had the dates right--Christmas is always December 25th, so if something happens three days before Christmas that's the 22nd, etc. It's surprisingly easy to lose track of this when you're writing a novel.

Next to that a slip with the names of the Holston Pony Club members competing in show jumping rally, along with their division and what I still need from them. I have to get the showjumping entries in by tomorrow.

Next to that another to-do list. It's not looking probable.

As a family we always tried to eat breakfast together. On days my husband operates he leaves the house a little early, and when the children were small I woke them early so we could still eat together. When they hit high school we let them sleep. High school here starts at 7:30, which means the kids needed to leave the house by 7, which seemed early enough for teenagers.

Today my husband left early to operate. My son, who moves to Florida for his summer internship in a few days, slept in. I got up and ate breakfast with my daughter. It is her very last day of high school. It's the last day I'll yell up the stairs to make sure my school-age children are awake and getting dressed; the last day, in fact, that I have school-age childen at all. I'm so proud of my children, how they're growing and spreading their wings. I'm wondering what it's going to be like from now on--do I go back to getting up early on days my husband operates, or do I sleep in? Meanwhile I'm wading through all these little papers on my desk. It's a pretty quiet day for such a big transition.


  1. Proud. A little sad. Wonderful. Good luck with all your lists!

  2. Here's a little tip I've discovered. I have to make to-do lists; I'm of an age where short-term memory is, well, hit-or-miss to say the least. But I usually find looking at a to-do list rather daunting. Good grief! When am I going to get all this stuff done?? So at the top of any such list I write "1. Make list." When I've finished the list, I check off item #1. Okay, who am I kidding, really. But there is a tiny frisson of satisfaction: Okay, I can do this! I've already completed one thing!


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