Time is a peculiar thing. Each day can go by so quickly and months disappear yet, when waiting for a certain time to arrive, it can often seem to be catching upon every briar as it drags through the scrub brush of living.
I've been living with the kids since the end of February - nine months now. That's plenty of time for a newly-made being to be presented to the world. I wonder how much longer it will take for this newly - re-made person to arrive.
I have retired this year from all my outside activities: handed over the keys at the workplace and said so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good-bye; dropped out of the genealogy organization I've belonged to for many years; left the booth rented, these last two-and-a-half years, to sell off my belongings. Everything I still own and still do is centered, now, on this Happy Acre.
I'm giving myself to the end of the year to sort out and either box up or dispose of what I absolutely don't love and need - or need and love - whichever is more important.
Then from the end of the year until the end of February to figure out "what next?"
Why have I set a schedule for myself? Because time is such a peculiar thing.
