When Steve woke up this morning (just before 5 o’clock), I never had any intention of doing anything other then what I usually do, kiss him good morning, steal his pillow, and fall blissfully back to sleep. But alas, the entire person on my bladder sometimes has different plans. Being up made me aware of the fact that I was hungry, which means no chance for sleep without something in me. So, I sat down with a small bowl of plain yogurt and started paging through the ‘Mothering’ magazine that made it home from the library with us this week, specifically an article on preparing balanced meals. Bring on the guilt! This is an area where I fear I’ve been falling behind my own standards lately. To be sure, I think that we still eat considerably better then most. But not nearly as well as we could or have in the past, or, I feel, should. hmm. hmm. hmm.

Back to bed, only to find that two certain little people are having a conversation of whispers in the room across the hall. I laid back down and tried to get comfy, but the sandman was no match for the ever growing list of things in my head, along with those little whispers. So, I stumbled through the dark (yes, the sun was still nowhere near the horizon, what am I going to do with these people?!?) and climbed into the single bed where the whisperers had already consolidated themselves. And here I hatched a plan. A plan for a highly productive Sunday. And, in their early morning excitement, I even managed to round up some help.

I sent my little elves off to find Steve (down at the old house), to recruit him for the plan. Steve agreed to the plan, which involved him going down the the old house and washing a bunch of pots and pans for me and then doing the weeks errands on his own, while I stayed home to cook, clean, and craft (crafting of the highly practical kind, I assure you).

While they gathered and transported dishes, I puttered about, straightening this and fixing that…fished yet another half-eaten apple out from under the futon and wondered what the thought process was behind balancing a new roll of toilet paper atop the empty roll.

I hopped onto my balance ball at the computer and checked in on the town wide conversation we are currently having on becoming a more independently sustainable community. And then to look for a tea pot. Mine broke ages ago and I’ve decided that a new one is a necessity…even though it’s obviously not. Not having one is just enough of an annoyance that it keep me from making and drinking the good infusions that I know I feel so much better on. And it’s autumn now and chilly and I want the home-y comfort of a pot of tea to be sipped throughout the day. So I’m considering it an early baby-moon present to myself (with a strict budget) and not looking back. Enter etsy. Pottery—tea pots—sort from lowest to highest. Ah, etsy, I love you so! While teapots load on my screen I start slowly adding to two different lists, one my to-do list, the other an extensive shopping list for Steve.

A new teapot on the way and my lists mostly completed, I was fairly satisfied. I don’t much care for the color of the teapot, but it’s a high-quality, hand-made, lead-free pottery, in a charming shape, that will hold a plenty of tea. And it was the only one that fit all of those categories, for $30 or less, so I consider it a success.

By now the boys, both big and little, were back from moving about and washing dishes for me (sweet, dear gems of mine!). I told Steve of my plan to clear off three work surfaces, all cluttered from a busy week and Saturday, before doing an hour of yoga and then moving on to mass producing food, and from there, the 10 or 20 other things on my list… He advised doing the yoga first for fear I wouldn’t come back to it. Sound advise, truly. They went off to play and I started my yoga session. And no, the sun was still not up. Though it did come up, as I was opening my eyes, coming out of meditation, and greeted me with a delightful autumnal view of the birch trees out an adjacent window. In a show of perfect timing, Galen came down, just as I was finishing up.

I sent Steve off to my long list of stores, with what I felt was a fairly comprehensive list. And then proceeded to call him three times, within 5 minutes of him leaving. His cell phone was sure to make a racket as soon as he got far enough from the mountain for it to ring!

On to breakfast type things like skimming milk and scrambling eggs. Everyone had some combination of toast with cheese, leftover banana bread, and/or scrambled eggs with lots of kale, depending on likes and allergies. And I started clearing off the work table next to my desk. And here, right here, is where the day somehow got off of track.

One of the main sources of clutter on said table involved the bits and pieces of packages I’ve been meaning to send out. Five in all, to friends all over the globe. Getting those packages together was high on the to-do list, and so this is where I decided to start. So, far so good, right? Right. Only…it was at this point that I mentioned to the boys that I was sending packages off to various people, and did they want to include things for their own little friends?? I can see it now, in retrospect, that was to be the fatal flaw of the morning. Why yes, of course they want to send gifts and trinkets to their little friends! But Mama, what we really need is our beads… Well, where are they? asks I, innocently enough. Oh, they got tossed on your desk some time ago.

Oh.

Surely, surely, other houses must have a spot of this sort. A spot where any and everything that doesn’t have a home, or needs attention at some point or can’t even be identified, gets tossed. I suppose it’s what most people have a junk drawer for. We have the top of my desk. Oh, my desk. I’ve given up on even trying to straighten it when people come over. I just hope that it somehow blends in. What else to do with a half-finished quilt, a stack of home-schooling books (constantly being referanced), main lesson books in progress, random things to be written on the calendar, paint chip, old work to be filed away, miscellaneous art supplies and all of it’s other little oddities? Oh, dear. Yes, that is my desk. The very one that I write to you from on a regular basis. The very one that I have been trying to ignore, full-well knowing that I’ll be forced to deal with it in another month or so, when we are ready to move it back to it’s rightful spot.

And so, of course, you guessed it I’m sure…I started to clean off my desk. Two and half hours later, and countless calls to Steve to add folders and boxes and page protectors to his ever growing list, I had amassed a great many crayons and a startling amount of embroidery floss, but still no beads. The beads, by the way, were eventually found, on the relatively clear chest of drawers right next to my desk. But the desk project spiraled outward and somehow, somewhere turned into hanging up several pictures, sorting a pile of magazines in the bathroom, watering plants, creating a new filing system for important documents, and rearranging my home management binder…along with many, many other things. None of which actually feel finished. One thing triggering another until I was nothing but a whirlwind, running all about the house. Surely other people must do this too?? Please humor me at least!

At 4 pm, I had accomplished a mere two things on my list. The day had somehow mostly vanished and all of the food prep I was planning on doing was still entirely undone. Time to shift gears…or so I thought. I still had some sort of vague hope of starting chicken stock, sauerkraut and apple-pear sauce. But of course, Steve had been home for a bit now. I had been pulled away from my crazy scatter-brained desk project, by putting away groceries and all of the other things that I sent him to fetch. Now he has finished with putting up joint compound for the day and was ready to clear out the play room, in order to scrub the floor. And so, everything was moved and in the end, making the gluten-free pizzas that I promised the kids for dinner, while trying to keep Galen out of the playroom and tripping over everything that was now in the way, turned out to be quite enough for me for the night. By the time I got everyone down for bed, after dinner, I just didn’t have the heart for anything more! And so, instead of starting my Monday with a refrigerator full of fresh food, a neat and tidy house, and several bothersome projects out of the way…I’m starting off with the house in disarray, no progress on my projects and not a single prepared meal. All the same, I felt like it was quite a busy day, but apparently not the right kind of busy.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some chicken stock to start.