just getting dressed

The Friday morning sunshine streams in the picture window that faces the southeast. I’ve been trying to take some time to sit in the sun on sunny mornings. I’ve heard tell that it is good for a person. Especially in these months. I don’t think it’s doing much besides making me lazy. I feel almost addicted to this morning siesta. Almost grumpy if I don’t have time or there is no sunshine. I’ve been trying to talk Our Girl Audrey into try it.

She sniffs in the way that is characteristic of her when she doesn’t believe a single thing I’m saying and has no intentions of changing her views. Sometimes I get her to come out and sit in the one chair and she looks the whole time like I’ve asked her to eat brussel sprouts. Shifts around, acts put upon, and finally will say, “S’alrigh’ f’I go fee’ a birze?” (Is it alright if I go feed the birds?”) or “S’alrigh’ f’I go my roo’?” (Is it alright if I go to my room?) or some other such thing that will release her from sitting quietly in the sunshine.

I’m not sure why she resists it so much. I’m of the opinion that it isn’t so much that she doesn’t like to sit still as she thinks that it isn’t right for me to sit still. She thinks I ought to be doing something productive.

She’s a little like my Daddy on that score. He liked nothing better than to see his wife or his children working really, really hard. “Hard work never killed anybody,” he would say with conviction and his characteristic grin. Well, he wasn’t right on that score, but he really did believe it until the day he died. And though I am forever grateful for the things I was taught, I believe that some of the things that were instilled in me as a child makes it difficult to feel worthy when I’m unproductive. Not all of that is bad, though. Our society could surely use a few more people who believe in the therapeutic value of hard work. (She says as she sits on her chair in the sun!)

I wonder if part of my current lethargy isn’t that there is so much to do that I don’t feel like starting. Some people say they don’t know where to start. I know where to start, for sure, but I just don’t feel like starting. Taxes to organize and divide into columns and write down, computer room to clean, (AGAIN!) book work for the casemanager, red Christmas bows to take off the upper deck railing . . . I should probably start by just getting dressed. I’m getting company at eleven.