lazyness

I have the third load of laundry in the washing machine,  my 3 bathrooms are if not gleaming like something out of a Mr. Clean commercial at least passably tidy and smelling faintly of whatever chemical they put in “Green Works” cleaning products.  I have an empty dishwasher and fresh linen on the beds.  There is a blob of hamburger thawing in my sink which will eventually resemble something we will call dinner.  The dog is laying in a patch of sunlight on the carpet, pleasantly tired after the 5km frolic we went on this morning.  Or rather, I walked a brisk 5 km,  and she ran to the edge of my sight and back again to my side over and over and over and over.  That being said if I suggested going out again she would happily bound along with the energy of a puppy.

As for me.. It is mid afternoon and I’m ready to take a break.  I sit in the warmth of the few stray rays of sunlight that have found their way into my home, looking out over the quiet neighbourhood from our perch on the hill at the end of the street.

Daisies

©RiverWalker Arts

“Stars are the daisies that begem The blue fields of the sky, Beheld by all, and everywhere, Bright prototypes on high.”
~ David Macbeth

When I have moments like this there is always guilt.  Guilt that I should be doing something else, something productive... I should be washing the windows.. or the dog, cleaning my closet, de-cluttering the spare room,  putting in a long run to prepare me for the race on April 10^th.  Maybe I should be baking, or scrubbing out the inside of my car ( which currently has slight “ ‘eau de wet dog” odour).  There are papers that I never get time at work to read which I should take out and read.  Or maybe that nagging feeling can handle me putting all these mundane tasks aside, and maybe the guilt I have is that I have neglected craft projects that need finishing, like that partially finished dress I was making for a masquerade party happened 2 years ago.  But as I think of dragging out all that work, and I look outside I have the feeling  that this sun will only last an hour at most before the rain sets in for another week and I Should really get out and do some early spring gardening... like pulling the weeds that are choking the flower beds and strangling the crocuses.  

But for some reason all that guilt, all that should, could, ought to do .... isn’t getting done and instead I’m languishing here relaxing, my novel tucked in next to my hip on the sofa.