One of these days

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I’m trying to read more and dust less these days.


I’m sitting in the garden and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds.


I’m spending more time with my family and friends and less time working.


Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savour, not to endure.


I’m trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.


I’m not ‘saving’ anything. We use our good china and crystal for every special event such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, or the first Amaryllis blossom.


I wear my good blazer to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out ‘28.49 for one small bag of groceries.


I’m not saving my good perfume for special parties, but wearing it in the ironmongers and at the bank.


“Someday” and “one of these days” are losing their grip on my vocabulary.


If it’s worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.


I’m not sure what others would have done had they known they wouldn’t be here for the tomorrow that we all take for granted.


I think they would have called family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think they would have gone out for a Chinese dinner or for whatever their favourite food was.


I’m guessing; I’ll never know.


It’s those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew my hours were limited. Angry because I hadn’t written certain letters that I intended to write ‘one of these days’. Angry and sorry that I didn’t tell my husband, children and parents often enough how much I truly love them.


I’m trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and lustre to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.


Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift.

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