Routine

I now must confess that I, dear readers, yes, I, taught my poor little dog all about routines. I had no idea that they were such a part of my life. I have been in denial, likely for many years. In fact, likely since my children were born. Why, then, do I hate predictability, you ask? Great question, and one I have no answer for. I think perhaps it is a survival thing for me. All of my life, or at least until last week, if memory serves me, I have not wanted one person to know everything about me. In 27 years of marriage there were some things that I purposely held back from my husband. Nothing big. Silly things like favorite color, books, etc. But there were things. As I reach my "senior" years (almost time for a discount at eateries and casinos) my routines become clearer and my little "secrets" much more transparent.

OK, if you made it through the ramblings in the first paragraph you may need a break at this point. Go take some ibuprofen, a few deep breaths and maybe a potty break. I will wait on you.

Routines. I have them. From the moment my foot touches the carpet in the morning until the next morning, when my foot again touches said carpet. And it makes me CRAZY when something interrupts my routine. It goes something like this (with a few bumps along the way):

Slight movement of the bed clothes causes dogs to compete for who gets the cherished facial area on their morning greeting...also known as pig pile on G2.

Awake and reach for glasses, knock them on floor, get off bed and out from under corgwyns, to crawl around searching for my link to reality; my glasses.

Once on, then put on leg, making sure that the toes point forward. At this point it is time for the bathroom; thanks children!!

Outside quickly so dogs get a release spot outside, not on my poor carpet.

Then turn on hot water, grab dog bowl, bathrobe (thanks for the reminder, Henry) right foot into left boot (at this point that is what feel "right" no left, oh forget it) and head out to let the horse out.

Dogs frap joyfully around the pasture at full speed waking up neighbor's dogs, and neighbors. Feed horse, open doors, entice pups back to the house asking constantly "are you hungry, want some breakfast, hungry, huh?"

Once back in house (62 degrees) it is time to feed the dogs, grab a cup of cocoa, and sit at the computer.

My morning computer routine is suddenly shattered and I am quickly in a rage. It is a good thing I have not started the fire yet, because I am plenty hot. How DARE they mess with me by changing the format on one of the daily newspapers! I cannot find a thing. Everything is changed. I get so worked up that I say, outloud, that I am now done with reading that paper first thing in the morning. "More user friendly" they say. Yeah right. I am the biggest user. Wait, that isn't right! Well, I hope it isn't. Now I don't know. I am too worked up to care. My routine is destroyed, and I know that the day will continue along in a similar manner. Drat!

However, this all leads me to wonder something. Hey S2, what do you think? All those elderly that think they are suffering the early effects of Alzheimers or senility...do you think we can blame it on the e-newspaper format change?

I am out of here to think about better times; butterflies, rainbows, sunshine, motorcycles, and being able to quickly find my way through all the news worth reading. THAT'S IT!! The darn editor is trying to get more of his newspaper read! By jove, I think I got it. Now, what was I talking about????

G2