How was your weekend?

Cats do not know what the word
'work' means... we should follow
their example of living. (This is
Maksim, the Russian Blue.*)

Today my friend Carol called and her first question was "How was your weekend?"

I had to stop for a second and think... 'Weekend? What is that?' and then I replied, "Carol, all my weekends run together since I don't have any week days in between anymore. My life is great, I'm loving what I'm doing - or not doing. It's all very good."

For example, this morning I was up with the birds, literally. They tuned up about 4:30 a.m., I got up and looked out the window. "Hmmm, gonna be a nice clear day. I might want to water the berries later." Then I went and made some oatmeal (with blueberries from the store) and a cup of tea.

Back to bed to eat the oatmeal and read a story on my Kindle. Now the sun is really coming up and I'm feeling sleepy again. So I pull the covers over my head and take a nap.

Mallard duck watercolor on 9x9
paper, finished today.

Around 8 a.m. I decide to get up and get ready for my art class. I putter about and grab a jar of jam I made a few days ago to give to my teacher. She likes me already, so I'm not buttering her up or anything. I just appreciate her taking time to give us her knowledge.

Class goes until noon, so I head home again and read some mail, make a nice salad for lunch, but in the process I was reminded that I had four boxes of strawberries that needed to be hulled and frozen.

After a leisurely lunch watching the news (Twitter feed, Facebook and other postings) about the R2AK unpowered race to Alaska up the inland passage, I decide to cut the berries up, eating a few and then getting them into the freezer.

First crop of raspberries from my bushes... easy to grow here.

A trip outside to the freezer reminds me I have raspberries about to be picked and they also need some watering.

So I go and pick two pints of berries, then water them. Now it's 4 p.m. and time for tea. I answer some texts from my daughter about a visit and go for a walk.

Cleopurrtra looking up at the birds
that woke us up earlier today.

In a few hours it will be dark and I'll get my Kindle and another cup of tea, go and sit with a cat as a pillow and my day will be nearly over.

No stress, no loud voices, no demands... following my bliss.

This is what it means to be Retired For Good... and it is good.

* NOTE: Maksim and Cleopurrtra are rescue cats. When I first adopted Max, he was looking for the KGB around every corner, scared of everything. Today he is a relaxed, normal, still-a-bit-shy guy, but very different from the cat I brought home. And some of the credit goes to Cleo who was a 6-month old kitten and still loves to play. She forces Max to join her in her nightly entertainments from time to time and he's learned to love the window seat, too.

These two fur-iners in my life keep me on track so everybody wins.