MY time is up. Today I return to work after a glorious two week holiday at home. The first holiday at home post children. The first real holiday at home since I started a new job. The first holiday at home where I wasn't planning dinners in my head by 9am, plotting out my days to get washing done, in, ironed, shopping for dinner groceries, picking things up and putting them away, picking people up or dropping them off and negotiating or nagging, mostly nagging. Even the first holiday where I wasn't thinking ahead to when I'd walk the dog and whether I'd get that hour in before it rained or some other thing stole my attention and time. (We put down a very, very sick and clearly suffering Axle on my first day of leave.)
#opshopscore // leather sandals, $6, East Gosford Vinnies; raffia hat, $5, Kincumber Vinnies
All that responsibility, gone, and in its place, time, loads and loads of time. Time to op shop. Time to cook meals I'd never cooked before with recipes I'd saved and collected but never found the time or patience to try. Time to read and to write. Time to blog. Time to take photos. Time to be in the garden. Time to spend an hour in a café with last month's magazine, and one from this month. Time to see friends. Time to pen a letter. Time to write a card. Time to clear out a cupboard and mend a dress, or two.
#opshopscore // appliqued dress, $3, Wyoming Lifeline; West German pottery, $15, Kincumber Vinnies
Time to make things. Time to read knitting patterns. Time to harvest last season's crops and share them. Time to enrol in a course of study. Time to explore others. Time to talk about the future and start really planning for it. Time to write Girl Guide programs and even run a Girl Guide meeting, and enjoy it rather than be annoyed at how little I'd prepared and how much more I could have done.
Now my time is up and it's back to early alarms and schedules and to-do lists, and plotting ways to carve out more little parcels of 'me time'.