What do I have to do today?

Each morning, I come out to the shed and open up the computer.

“What do I have to do today”.
It’s all in the calendar. Each notation in a different color and to do’s on the attachment at the side.
It’s a great feeling to tick them off.
Well, today was to be a day to prepare my travel book for printing.
The best laid plans of mice and men….. My printer is having a hissy fit and despite working on it for an hour or so I’m not going to get the results I demand.
I decided to sort out the years travelling stuff after shifting the studio around.

As I travel I save things, bizarre things, like……. hotel key tags, boarding passes, tickets to events, cards from students and friends and even police reports….. yes, I have two. One when I talked the cop out of a speeding fine by showing him my quilts (is that called perverting the course of justice)? The other from South Africa when I got mugged.
It all goes in the diary. 
Comments, good and bad and my reactions. 

I pulled out the pile of “things” and memories return as I look at each one. Cards from the students. It reminded me of the days I had free exploring the countryside and meeting the most wonderful people.
“Ding” goes the signal for incoming mail.
Oh, its spooky, there was an email from one of the quilters I spent time with on that occasion.!!!!
145 boarding passes, a little bit excessive and 35 hotel keys.
I sorted them out into months and returned them to their box for another day when the printer returns to normality. 

Time for personal maintenance and an early morning visit to the nail spa, for nails, pedicure and eyebrows. It just happened that daughter Rachael and Grandie Tilly walked in… so I had an attentive assistant. Tilly was just inches from my brow as it was being waxed and she rubbed my arm in concern. The spa owner was a little put out I think.

I made a terrible discovery today laying on that spa bed. If I hold my arms up to let the nails dry and I’m laying down, my arms wrinkle. I’ve never had wrinkly arms before, so I figure its a bad sign. I’ll not mention it to Tilly.

Then there was a  quick visit to the chiropractor after weeks of sewing and swinging the knee lift at an un natural angle. As I walked in I recognised the top of the mans head laying on the bed in the treatment room (I don’t know why she had the door open) so I said to the practitioner, “just beat him up a little bit” The man jumped a little and turned around… “Oh, its just my mum” he told the startled Chiropractor.

I’ve had hours of typing today and now I’m going to give myself an early minue

2 Comments Add yours

  1. gale wrigley says:

    Jack Kerouac! Very cool! I’m packing, myself. Leaving Wednesday. Looking forward to seeing you again at Empty Spools. (And let’s not talk about arms, OK?)

  2. Lyn Duhig says:

    So now you have all your readers lifting their arms and checking for wrinkles! (I did). 🙂

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