Early Day
It is not often that I need to set an alarm. Dennis had agreed that today he would help nephew Brett get his vehicles to Fairmont for servicing. Dennis drove one pickup that needed an air bag replaced. Brett drove the honking huge pickup that he and Dennis will be taking on their road trip the first week in February for a once over. The boys were on the road by eight. Me? I was still in my robe staggering to the coffee pot.
I had the news on. In between the political crap there was a fill-in on the local front. They brought up the fact that most young children get $9.00 a week as an allowance. Hmm. It made me wonder what happened to that tin Bandaid box that I had kept my weekly allowance in. When I was five, I got a nickel a week. I have no idea why this is so clear in my mind almost 70 years hence. I would sit in the porch on the farm five miles out of Winthrop and spread out my nickels to see how much I had. Hmm.
I have, in farts and spurts, gone crazy with my real day, real time nickels and splurged on various interests over the years. I got it out of my system maybe one time, two times . . . alright . . . more times than I can count. It may have been household gadgets, the latest in fashions, custom jewelry, buying out a greenhouse nursery each spring, etc. Do I have anything of those spurts in my day-to-day life right now? I look around.
My closet has slim to none in it for day-to-day. I enjoy wearing the same earrings over and over. What I wear in necklaces, chains and earrings, I have an emotional attachment to. Megan has gotten a kick out of scavenging through my custom jewelry and taken at will. My selection of shoes is sparse. Our kitchen has two, maybe three pots, pans and kettles. Our silverware does not match. With arthritis, I have several old pieces that seem to feel good in my hands. We purchase for our home only when something collapses or it won’t work when plugged in. My car is a 1999 model and will work for me for quite some time in the future.
As I sit here in my sewing studio typing this, I know where my true passion is for creativity and longevity. Over the decades when I have splurged on threads, fabrics, rulers, sewing aids, paper crafting products . . . many of those choices are all here within arms reach. If I can stretch myself and challenge myself in working within these confines . . . I am all in. I never say never.
It was huge when I purchased a new sewing machine a little over three years ago. Oh my God! It was a huge leap into challenging myself to make use of all it could be and do. I am still learning and loving it. Do I need to have it . . . no. At the time, could I justify purchasing it, even if it was interest free for five years . . . no. Do I deserve to have it . . . no. Can I stay busy enough to enjoy thinking and being excited about each day . . . yes. Do I enjoy sharing what I can create . . . oh yes. Is it healthy for me to keep my mind and body challenged . . . yes. Can I share my passion, love and talent for creating with others . . . yes. Megan and Brett are my star pupils. A few have wanted to have that within themselves at my elbow and they gave up on themselves. This world of mine is a win, win for me, for my ole cowboy, for my family and for my friends.
I never planned for retirement. I never gave it a thought. I showed up and did what the job required . . . and then some, until one day I decided, I had done enough. Did I ever think I needed more than two nickels to rub together . . . no. I still know and feel that money is needed to stay on board with a quality of life so as to not worry my children. My needs are fairly meager. I can only surmise that from what I hear and see when I am out and about with my peers. When Dennis and I are on one of our road trips it is for groceries and to enjoy Perkins. The mall shopping is not warranted nor needed.
I am well on my way to working through having a boat-load of projects written down for completion in 2019. The list includes putting a huge dent in what I have on hand. As I was cutting up a huge Damask tablecloth to make an Easter table runner for Carrie, Dennis sat back rocking in the rocking chair down here in the sewing studio and marveled as to what was being stitched out. He asked what I was going to do with the remainder of it and I had to admit I was still thinking on that. Yup . . . we have it made. We have a sweet life. Each morning as my feet hit the floor, it is easy to thank God for the night of rest. After I am awake enough for the eyes to focus, I am thankful that I have been given the day to get some local effort done. First comes the household duties before I give myself the liberty of hitting the sewing studio. Work first . . . treats after. We don’t have many early days, but we do have full busy days.