I woke up late this morning and rushed over to my neighbor’s house in record time for our Monday’s at 10. My back was so bad I stopped three or four times before I got there. Today is cold and dank and doesn’t bolster my spirits in any way. I am sick and tired of winter and the few days of pseudo spring we’ve had.

The first load of wash is in the machine. I got tired of looking at it leaning against the cellar door. A second load sits on the floor waiting its turn. Adam and Eve before the apple had it easy.

When I was growing up, I never realized how much work my mother actually did around the house. I’d see her making dinner but that was about it. While I was at school, she cleaned, vacuumed, made beds, washed clothes and ironed. My empty bureau drawers would magically fill. My bed would be made and my room cleaned. I never gave any of that much thought. I don’t think I ever said thank you. I just supposed it was what mothers did.

I am living by myself which I quite enjoy. There are no expectations. Today I might do this or I might do that or I might do neither. I make lists only when I have lolled far too long. I believe a written list of chores is binding much like Moses must have felt walking down the mountain with the ten commandments. If the chore is there before my eyes, I have to do it though that’s where the comparison with Moses ends. His was mostly a don’t do list though there were a couple of have to’s. I am quite faithful to finishing my lists, and I cross off each completed item with a flourish.

Coffee was going on hiatus today but then I got started and the words just poured out. My two typing fingers had quite the work-out. I do have to stop, though, my first load of laundry is done and needs to go into the dryer. A woman’s work is never done, sort of.