Finding Time vs. Having Time

I'm nearing a month into summer break, and slowly beginning to feel a reduction in my usual daily urgency, the pace I follow during the school year. I get up, let the dog out, take my morning medication, decide upon coffee and breakfast, and try not to make too much noise as DH and the College Freshman continue to sleep. I go downstairs carefully, enter my craft room, set my mug and bagel down upon the desk, and look around in search of inspiration. 

My idle hands, free from shelving books, barcoding and processing new additions to our library, repairing broken spines and torn pages, and creating reading displays, require activity.  Until last weekend I didn't have many options as the room was in a mess, with stacks of picture books to read and review covering the surface of one work table, and yarn, Christmas cards yet to be turned into this year's gift tags, fabric, and stacks and bags of ephemera, embroidery floss, decorative garland, and odds and ends brought home from my library office balancing on the other.  Thanks to one of my cats, the floor and entire bottom row of storage cubes (and a good third of their contents) required deep cleaning and transitioning to the garbage, so new cubes had to be purchased and materials needed to be reorganized. After finishing two more granny-square hexagon cardigans, I decided to use the blanket yarn I'd purchased months ago to make a squishy, slightly heavy afghan.  It's almost finished:

Tomatoes, melons, bell peppers, radishes and basil have been started in and around the greenhouse, while flower seeds are finally beginning to sprout in the gutter "tree," but the mud daubers and wasps allow me in just long enough to water containers before asserting themselves in my general direction, so I haven't spent as much time puttering and playing in the dirt as I'd like.  Next year remind me to crochet a large beige "nest" to hang up in the rafters come spring, okay?

Yesterday I discovered that I didn't completely fill out the year-long calendar I keep in the craft room in January, so June looks like this:

Do you see my dear friend Shannon's birthday on it?  Nope.  Do you see a due date for my last HEP B shot on it (someone my age has to work through a cycle of three)?  Nuh-uh. The month of May had entries scribbled across almost every Sunday through Saturday, but for most educators, the last day of school is written in big, bold letters, and that finality was apparently the only goal for this librarian. Shannon's gifts have been keeping my morning coffee and bagel company on my desk every day since school got out, but they'll be in the mail tomorrow. 

Thankfully, I receive email notifications from my healthcare provider so I'll be able to complete my immunizations next week. Books have been reviewed and moved to a bookcase in the hallway. The floor and cabinetry have been cleaned and disinfected, and the new cubbies for the storage cubes have been ScotchGard-ed (not sure what the generic brand is called), filled and added to the wall. I can see the surfaces of my two work tables.  I can wrap presents, browse craft magazines and websites, and lay out materials for my next creation. As I'm no fan of summer heat or summer crowds, I have about a month of fiddling around, trying new things, refreshing the space, and focusing on my want-to-dos, rather than having my days filled with must-dos, inside in an air-conditioned space. I can nap, read, crochet, craft, bake, and let my mind meander if it so chooses. 

Yesterday was a Monday, and I gave myself a manicure at 10:30 a.m. I napped with DH on the couch as we tried to binge-watch the last episodes of Alice in Borderland.  If you're not into gore, scroll right past it as you browse Netflix categories. A week or so ago I splurged and treated myself to more yarn (surprise, surprise), and admittedly some of it is nudging me toward a Halloween frame of mind. Wandering through the book section of thrift stores last weekend, I was delighted to find copies of mixed media and soldering books that I've been wanting for y-e-a-r-s. This morning I started on some of the last rounds of the afghan and watched Remembering Gene Wilder, which was delightful, until the end when I was reminded that he also suffered and died from dementia, like my mother.  Charlie spends some time with me each day.  Usually, breakfast and lunchtime.

Most summers it's like this.  Rather than finding time, I have time.