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Ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone…

Yesterday, The Mister got back from ten days away on the west coast.  The youngest munchkin just tied the knot in a gorgeous Sikh ceremony filled with beautiful colours, blessings and joy.  I had to preach that Sunday, so couldn’t make the trip, but apparently hundreds of pictures were taken which will be put on a CD and sent to yours-ever-faithfully sometime in the near future.  So looking forward to it and hoping somewhere in the midst of all those photos someone got a shot of The Mister in his quasi-turban, a red kerchief that all the men attending the ceremony were required to wear.  That’s bound to go viral.  :-)

So, that gave me ten days on my own and at least a hundred times each day I was reminded of all the stuff my dear Mister does around here, how many jobs I detest, like shopping of any kind (but grocery shopping is the worst by far!),  cooking (just remembering to leave something out to thaw proved too great a task for me some days), and dishes (although with just one person, there weren’t that many).  In addition to the regular maintenance chores, I decided to take advantage of his absence to finish some tasks he doesn’t care for, like painting the front door, washing the shed, sweeping the walkway.  I found myself rising early in the morning (around 6 am.) to do my workout, then breakfast, (I ate a prodigous amount of oatmeal!) followed by any housekeeping jobs I had scheduled for that day.  Then a shower while the cheap rates were still on, shopping if necessary (Grrr!), lunch, and the rest of the afternoon dedicated to my writing.  I finished three poems in five days, a remarkable output for me!  Then supper, which was usually just something warmed up since I was by then too hungry to actually chop something up and cook it.    An hour of news, dishes, and then I starting getting ready for bed at around 7:15 pm.  I read for about an hour and was sound asleep by 9 pm.

For some reason, that scheduled worked wonders for me.  I slept well, had good energy all day, and my hot flashes were low or sometimes nonexistant.  I didn’t answer the phone or the door, stayed off FaceBook most of the time, and didn’t watch TV beyond the evening news.  I read a great deal, and found that the rhythms of my ten day hiatus spared me missing my Mister too much.  We talked every day on the phone for ten or fifteen minutes and I will admit the first three conversations ended in tears since the separation was still fresh.  But I found strength in simple domestic work, and peace, and surprisingly, a real sense of accomplishment.  There was a gift in this time of solitude for which I am deeply grateful.

We’re getting back to our usual routine, but I’ve learned I need to set aside uninterupted time to write every day and that I’ve committed to do.  My way of honouring the gift.

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