Back To The Routine

Only a few minutes into my walk.

The Husband's mini-vacation-time-away-from-work is over.  How sad I was to see him head off to the office (even though it's only a few steps away and under the same roof).  I have so loved just doing what we pretty much felt like doing for the last while.

I'm pretty sure that he'd retire in an instant - if only he could. He went back to several hundred emails, piles of problems, and multiple meetings.  None of which are the core work that he truly enjoys.  But he's a good sport and still has a smile so it'll be ok.

I did manage to get a walk in yesterday morning.  It's peculiar how I can never sleep in on a work day, but when it's a holiday or a Saturday or Sunday when sleeping in is possible, I can manage to delay my waking for an extra bit.  Yesterday was the perfect example.  I didn't wake up until nearly seven - late for me.  So it was fully daylight when I left the house.  The pictures are all ones I took yesterday morning.  The weeping willow is notable because of it's tinge of green.  We've flower bulbs in the gardens that are several inches high, the peonies are poking through the dirt and it's only February (and mid-February at that!).  It concerns me.  (Yes, I admit, I am a worrier.) Today it was 64 degrees out.  Yeah, that's not the way things should be here in the Salt Lake Valley in February.  I surely hope the summer won't be a scorcher.

Those clouds looking west were so lovely.

It seems lately everywhere I go, I'm noticing older people.  Sometimes they're just cranky old individuals.  But as often, it's an older couple.  This afternoon I had to run to the post office (and as is pretty much always the case, had to wait in the seemingly interminable line) and had time to watch an older couple.  They were clearly transplants, barely-barely spoke English.  If the husband topped 5 feet it wasn't by much, slow in their movements, and didn't really lift their feet off the ground.

I mention this because the gal behind them in line was a bit impatient. (She also barely spoke English but was probably in her late 20's, had plenty of energy to expend and apparently too much to do in her allotted time.) And I'm finding that I hope I'm more patient with the elders. I'm almost at that stage of life.  I watch the elders shuffle along, uncertain on their feet, probably with aching knees or joints.  And I think that'll be me in a few short years.  And I hope people are kind, even though inside they might be screaming at me to "just hurry up, would ya?" I hope I can be solicitous and helpful without demeaning. And give them the time they need to accomplish what they've got in mind without assuming I know what they want.

The sun was bright on the mountains those long miles away.

I'm discovering a new respect for their stage in life.  Today's world is much changed from the one they entered as new adults. As it is and will be for me as I acquire more years.  I'd like to think there's someone watching out for them, grandchildren enjoying their association, neighbors who keep in touch, friends who laugh with them.

Green on the weeping willow.

I'm so grateful for their example - it's a reminder that I needn't always do everything in such a hurry. That it's ok to wait for someone kind to open the door for me, (and to considerately open the door for someone else), to just sit on a bench in the sunshine.

I'm also grateful for women friends that I visit teach that aren't at all embarrassed to come to the door in their robe (because their dressing time had been taken up with a phone call from someone who needed a few minutes), and who understand that we didn't mind in the least. I'm grateful for my bestest who always makes sure I drive a well-maintained, reliable car that doesn't make awful noises when I drive. Who always always greets me with a much needed welcome smile.  I'm grateful for hugs from daughters - that's something I've had to work at (hugging others), I was raised in a very non-touching family (to my detriment).  Who knew how much power can be in a hug? I'm also grateful to witness someone remembering another's birthday and how it pricked my teensy conscience to be kind even though the recipient might not deserve it.  I'm grateful for uplifting words.