The next few weeks are all about taking stock of what doesn't need to be done. Work schedule is overloaded, Christmas is coming, and I'm trying to get Organised.
I will be back in the new year, but need to take a break from blogging now. Sometimes something has to give!
Monday, 19 November 2012
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
Sometimes the pendulum swings overwhelmingly away from work and towards home. A visit to family followed by a laundry mountain; a boy who shocks his parents with a sudden developmental stage needing all of both parents' best parenting efforts; a half-finished garden revamp stalled by days of heavy rain. All of these, plus the onset of the dark days and long nights, conspire to make the work a mere distraction (and blogging an impossible non-essential which seems too much like work).
Oh, the work is still there. The work is still (mostly) done, but where is the engagement with it, the mental stimulation, the enjoyment? Overtaken by nagging low-level worry and More Important Matters. (And often, by less important matters which refuse to be ignored.)
How to restore the balance? Well, sometimes the balance simply needs to tip towards home for a while. There is no 'restoring the balance' because that is the only way we can be. But when we are ready to burrow into the mountain of Things to Do and truly engage with the work, there is only one way: focus on one thing at a time.
I know, it's been said before. Many times. But still we (or at least I) need reminding. Today is a Client A day, and I will do Client A's work until it is done. Tomorrow Client B's work will be waiting. A conscious decision to finish what needs to be done in the hours available results in great things. (And guilt-free time off afterwards!)
Oh, the work is still there. The work is still (mostly) done, but where is the engagement with it, the mental stimulation, the enjoyment? Overtaken by nagging low-level worry and More Important Matters. (And often, by less important matters which refuse to be ignored.)
How to restore the balance? Well, sometimes the balance simply needs to tip towards home for a while. There is no 'restoring the balance' because that is the only way we can be. But when we are ready to burrow into the mountain of Things to Do and truly engage with the work, there is only one way: focus on one thing at a time.
I know, it's been said before. Many times. But still we (or at least I) need reminding. Today is a Client A day, and I will do Client A's work until it is done. Tomorrow Client B's work will be waiting. A conscious decision to finish what needs to be done in the hours available results in great things. (And guilt-free time off afterwards!)
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Sooner than you think
It comes sooner than you think.
Aged only just seven, his mornings are taken up with learning spellings and arguing about teeth cleaning, and before you know it he's disappeared through the school gates without looking back.
On the way home from school he's miles ahead, racing his friends on their scooters. At the doorstep he doesn't even stop for a snack before saying, "Can I call for so-and-so?" and dashing to knock on a friend's door a couple of houses away.
Reluctantly he comes home to be fed, then plays a while before bed.
Is it any wonder I cherish bedtime, with its ritual story reading and snuggling? Long may it last.
Aged only just seven, his mornings are taken up with learning spellings and arguing about teeth cleaning, and before you know it he's disappeared through the school gates without looking back.
On the way home from school he's miles ahead, racing his friends on their scooters. At the doorstep he doesn't even stop for a snack before saying, "Can I call for so-and-so?" and dashing to knock on a friend's door a couple of houses away.
Reluctantly he comes home to be fed, then plays a while before bed.
Is it any wonder I cherish bedtime, with its ritual story reading and snuggling? Long may it last.
Monday, 8 October 2012
Shawls
What do shawls make you think of? Victorian ladies? Grannies? Little House on the Prairie?
Um. I like shawls. (In fact, I like the Victorians, grannies and Little House on the Prairie too. I wonder what that says about me?)
I like knitting shawls. They can be as complicated or as simple as you like. You can knit them in any thickness of yarn. And most important of all, they can't come out the wrong size! Too big, and they can become a blanket or throw. Too small, and you have a teeny scarf. (Or you just keep knitting until it gets bigger.)
I like wearing shawls. I realise this may be controversial if you aren't a knitter. (And I am sure the husband has strong opinions on my wearing shawls, but he wisely keeps these to himself, for which I am grateful.) Sitting at my desk during the day, I get colder and colder. A shawl (or two or three) over my shoulders makes all the difference and doesn't add the bulk of several woolly jumpers. Under a coat, a scarf annoys me. It dangles too far down and gets caught in things. A shawl does the same job, and can be wrapped around your neck just as easily, but doesn't do irritating things. Plus it's more interesting than a scarf.
I like draping shawls. I'm pretty sure the husband has opinions on this one too. They hang beautifully on the back of a chair, adding a bit of handmade loveliness to a room and, as a bonus, are easy to grab when I inevitably get chilly.
I also like fondling shawls I have made, lovingly, congratulating myself on how skillfully I have made such a wonderful thing. But don't tell anyone. That may make me sound weird.
Um. I like shawls. (In fact, I like the Victorians, grannies and Little House on the Prairie too. I wonder what that says about me?)
I like knitting shawls. They can be as complicated or as simple as you like. You can knit them in any thickness of yarn. And most important of all, they can't come out the wrong size! Too big, and they can become a blanket or throw. Too small, and you have a teeny scarf. (Or you just keep knitting until it gets bigger.)
I like wearing shawls. I realise this may be controversial if you aren't a knitter. (And I am sure the husband has strong opinions on my wearing shawls, but he wisely keeps these to himself, for which I am grateful.) Sitting at my desk during the day, I get colder and colder. A shawl (or two or three) over my shoulders makes all the difference and doesn't add the bulk of several woolly jumpers. Under a coat, a scarf annoys me. It dangles too far down and gets caught in things. A shawl does the same job, and can be wrapped around your neck just as easily, but doesn't do irritating things. Plus it's more interesting than a scarf.
I like draping shawls. I'm pretty sure the husband has opinions on this one too. They hang beautifully on the back of a chair, adding a bit of handmade loveliness to a room and, as a bonus, are easy to grab when I inevitably get chilly.
I also like fondling shawls I have made, lovingly, congratulating myself on how skillfully I have made such a wonderful thing. But don't tell anyone. That may make me sound weird.
Friday, 5 October 2012
To Do lists
I just spent a few minutes listing all the things I need to do next week, and all the things I want to do, and those happy few which fall into both categories.
Now I'm tired just thinking about it.
And having written that list I still haven't started on any of the things which need to be done today.
Because my mind is already in next week. (Apart from the large portion of it which is already in the weekend.)
Mostly I want to play today, and not write meaningful prose. But that's what I am being paid to do today, so I'd better get on with it.
I like ticking things off a To Do list, but sometimes making a long one backfires slightly.
Now I'm tired just thinking about it.
And having written that list I still haven't started on any of the things which need to be done today.
Because my mind is already in next week. (Apart from the large portion of it which is already in the weekend.)
Mostly I want to play today, and not write meaningful prose. But that's what I am being paid to do today, so I'd better get on with it.
I like ticking things off a To Do list, but sometimes making a long one backfires slightly.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Highways and Byways
How far does 'home' extend? As far as the front door? The garden gate? Further than that, I think.
We've lived in this village for nearly six years and I thought I knew it well. After all, it's not very big. I walk the main street twice a day to take the boy to school and back, I drive the other large-ish road regularly on my way to the nearest town, and I know most of the side streets. This week, however, I've spent an hour or so each morning walking paths and minor roads that aren't on my usual routes. I did have a cursory look at a map on Monday, but mostly I've just been following my nose.
Being slightly geographically challenged, I've thoroughly enjoyed the several 'aha' moments as I've emerged from a new-to-me footpath onto a familiar street, or spotted another footpath I didn't know existed, or realised that if I walk down here I'll end up there. I swear there's an audible click as the jigsaw pieces fall into place in my head and my mental picture of my home surroundings becomes clearer and more solid.
I've heard birds singing, smelled pine trees and soil, seen fantastic views over rolling fields (and I thought Suffolk was flat!) and encountered squirrels, pheasants and friendly dog-walkers. I've been stung by nettles and slipped in the mud and altogether properly experienced this place we live in.
These excursions have prompted me to ponder lots of questions: did all of these little patches of orchard once join up, and if so how big was the whole orchard once? Is there a map I can find to tell me? What's a haulage lorry from Scunthorpe doing in the back end of nowhere in Suffolk? Why is there an elderly man sitting out of sight behind the village hall in an equally elderly Jaguar with the engine running and the window open, smoking a pipe? Is he perhaps the lift home for the man with the incredibly bushy moustache and the battered tennis racket who is whacking balls around the playing field for his two collies to chase? And most of all, why have I not done this before now?
A tree's roots extend far beyond its trunk. A person's roots need to extend beyond the front door.
We've lived in this village for nearly six years and I thought I knew it well. After all, it's not very big. I walk the main street twice a day to take the boy to school and back, I drive the other large-ish road regularly on my way to the nearest town, and I know most of the side streets. This week, however, I've spent an hour or so each morning walking paths and minor roads that aren't on my usual routes. I did have a cursory look at a map on Monday, but mostly I've just been following my nose.
Being slightly geographically challenged, I've thoroughly enjoyed the several 'aha' moments as I've emerged from a new-to-me footpath onto a familiar street, or spotted another footpath I didn't know existed, or realised that if I walk down here I'll end up there. I swear there's an audible click as the jigsaw pieces fall into place in my head and my mental picture of my home surroundings becomes clearer and more solid.
I've heard birds singing, smelled pine trees and soil, seen fantastic views over rolling fields (and I thought Suffolk was flat!) and encountered squirrels, pheasants and friendly dog-walkers. I've been stung by nettles and slipped in the mud and altogether properly experienced this place we live in.
These excursions have prompted me to ponder lots of questions: did all of these little patches of orchard once join up, and if so how big was the whole orchard once? Is there a map I can find to tell me? What's a haulage lorry from Scunthorpe doing in the back end of nowhere in Suffolk? Why is there an elderly man sitting out of sight behind the village hall in an equally elderly Jaguar with the engine running and the window open, smoking a pipe? Is he perhaps the lift home for the man with the incredibly bushy moustache and the battered tennis racket who is whacking balls around the playing field for his two collies to chase? And most of all, why have I not done this before now?
A tree's roots extend far beyond its trunk. A person's roots need to extend beyond the front door.
Monday, 24 September 2012
Things I never thought I'd miss
Things I never thought I'd miss (but sometimes secretly do) about working outside the home for someone else:
Working in a team. That sense of shared purpose and 'all being in it together'. The feeling that other people know what it is you're doing and why. People who understand the same jargon and share at least some of your frustrations with the job. People who are, quite simply, there during your day and sometimes give you an opportunity to laugh and put things into perspective. (Which is a little difficult in a room on your own.)
Gossip and other people's problems. It may have been irritating at the time but it was a window onto another life and a way of bonding with another person. (Even if the bonding you were doing was with the person across the room who sympathised with you for being cornered, rather than with the gossiper.) It's easy to get 'stuck' in your own life if you don't get to see into other people's.
Meetings. An excuse to drink tea, eat biscuits and call it work. And still be paid!
Someone to blame. If a day is too busy, boring, stressful or just plain rubbish then it's the fault of the company, the workmates, the workload someone gave you... Never your own fault, surely.
The boss. Passing the buck. ("I'm sorry, I would have loved to help but that decision was out of my hands. Blame the boss.") But, more positively, being able to talk through a thorny problem or a difficult decision or a question you don't know the answer to with someone who, in theory, knows more than you and, in practice, can actually tell you what to do and make the burden of responsibility a little lighter.
Going home. The change of scene and pace; the feeling of escape and relaxation. How can you capture that feeling of going home when you're already there?
Working in a team. That sense of shared purpose and 'all being in it together'. The feeling that other people know what it is you're doing and why. People who understand the same jargon and share at least some of your frustrations with the job. People who are, quite simply, there during your day and sometimes give you an opportunity to laugh and put things into perspective. (Which is a little difficult in a room on your own.)
Gossip and other people's problems. It may have been irritating at the time but it was a window onto another life and a way of bonding with another person. (Even if the bonding you were doing was with the person across the room who sympathised with you for being cornered, rather than with the gossiper.) It's easy to get 'stuck' in your own life if you don't get to see into other people's.
Meetings. An excuse to drink tea, eat biscuits and call it work. And still be paid!
Someone to blame. If a day is too busy, boring, stressful or just plain rubbish then it's the fault of the company, the workmates, the workload someone gave you... Never your own fault, surely.
The boss. Passing the buck. ("I'm sorry, I would have loved to help but that decision was out of my hands. Blame the boss.") But, more positively, being able to talk through a thorny problem or a difficult decision or a question you don't know the answer to with someone who, in theory, knows more than you and, in practice, can actually tell you what to do and make the burden of responsibility a little lighter.
Going home. The change of scene and pace; the feeling of escape and relaxation. How can you capture that feeling of going home when you're already there?
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