We have a cleaning schedule, Barb, or I guess I should say a "chores" schedule. For one thing, I can't do it all in one day now, not even close. And for another thing, my husband REALLY likes a schedule. I lose the satisfaction of having everything clean at the same time, but I've learn to "oh well" the situation.
I'm hoping that people are just reading and not posting, but I rather think that a lot of folks either moved on totally to Facebook, or that Facebook is sucking up most of their energy. Nothing against Facebook--but I share things here that I'd NEVER dream of sharing under my real name, or to my teenage friends, my granddaughter, my elderly aunt, etc.
I've been dealing with a conglomeration of physical woes the last couple of weeks, trying not to let it get me down. Or downer. I'm hoping it will improve and I can resume my "normal" life again, but it's given me a bit of a scare--what if I'm going to stay like this? Or get worse??
I'm trying to make myself face that possibility (which we ALL face at a certain age) and work a little harder at sorting and divesting of stuff. If I croak, no problem--my daughter can decide what to keep, what to sell, what to toss. I'm more worried about having to move suddenly (into a smaller place? assisted living? worse?) and not have time or mental resources to decide which 5% of my stuff I keep.
I'm working on books, music, CD's, familiy photos, etc., more or less triaging them while I still have some brain cells and can still walk around, so that if the time comes I'll have the A-list separated and labeled at least. I've got a long way to go, but I'm trying not to think about that, because I get really anxious.
**My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)