Routine Turmoil

I know the title sounds confusing, but that is what my retired life has become. Unlike the housewives of old where she divided the chores to accomplish on certain days of the week, there seems to be little of that in my life since I’ve retired. When I worked as a nurse, having a routine wasn’t in my cards either. My schedule was created, often without regard to the stress it caused on the body. There were times I would work three shifts in a seven day period: afternoons, nights, a day off and then two, 12 hour shifts of daylight. If there was a call-off, I might work 16 hours and because of inclement weather, been called on to work longer periods.

I wrote all of that to say often my life is in constant flux from one week to another. This past Tuesday I attended the Chestnut Ridge Society to listen to Fred Saluga talk about Bigfoot. Thursday was the meeting of writers at the Mt. Pleasant Library. Friday was my catch-up on laundry and Saturday I spent helping my son Andrew and his wife Renee with other family members to clean and start minor repairs on their new home.

I’m not complaining about the cleaning and the repair work, because having them so much closer than Amarillo, Texas is a true blessing. It has been an answer to prayers. No more trying to figure out the weight of something when I have to mail a gift or books I find or write for them. I’ll still forget anniversaries and birthdays and have to send belated cards, but I’ll be able to see all my granddaughters grow and love them more often with hugs and kisses.

I guess Sundays are  one constant with church and Sunday evening services, but I have one writers meeting at the Art Center in Greensburg every second and fourth Sunday afternoon, and of course yesterday was one of the meetings. I guess my life will never grow stale.