A little wrapping and floor sitting.......

Yesterday was the first day I did not post here after 65 days of straight posting. I have amazed myself, people. And do you know, it felt strange NOT to have written anything. When I finally crawled onto the couch after 10pm to do a little of my ripple blanket, I did stop a while and think that maybe I should come and say hi, but the wool called and I wanted to change colour....you know how it goes.

What did I do yesterday which kept me away from the computer? Hmmm. There was speculation re a nap but that didn't happen, much though it was needed. But I did get some presents wrapped. I did organise the Christmas cards (unwritten) into a nice little pile. Tower. And I did clean the windows in the lounge. The sun came out, you see, and I was horrified by the fingerprints. Where do they come from? I don't stick my hand on the window. Then the mirrors looked bad. And the glass doors. And there were calls from lawyers and such like. Mum was out to lunch and David went to help one of my friends sort out her printer and computer. A quick trip to the bank and to drop a parcel at a friend, and the day was gone.

About present wrapping. Where do you wrap presents? On a table? On the floor? A bed? I have always sat on the floor surrounded by paper, ribbon, bows and gifts and done all the wrapping there. It feels right for me. My friends seem to use tables. Maybe it is an African thing. I have always been very happy on the floor. I remember that my mother-in-law was quite horrified when I curled up on the floor at her house. She kept clearing chairs and offering me a "proper" seat, and did not understand that sitting on the floor did not mean anything other than that I felt at home enough to do what I always did. And I have always been very "bendy". Until recently. As I get older, of course, the sitting on the floor thing is just as natural, but it is the getting up which has rather thwarted my floor sitting escapades. I need cranes.

Sigh.

So, in the same vein as the tree/star thing, I accidentally knelt down yesterday to wrap, and then remembered that I do not kneel any more for a very good reason. And it took me a good while to get all limbs functioning in a suitable manner again while remembering that breathing is essential to life. My mother took one look at me attempting to walk the length of the room and said in a stern voice "You knelt down again, didn't you". Yes, mother. I know. I knelt down. Kneeling is so convenient. Just try NOT kneeling for a day or two and you will see how much we take things like that for granted. I will not surrender the floor for my wrapping yet, though.

I just have to remember where I have hidden all the presents I have made. Unfortunately the memory is as bad as the knees. This is not convenient.

Someone told me that I am spending too much time as a human doing, and not as a human being. Think about it. They were right, of course. Too much of the "doing" makes the "being" impossible. And back we come to that lovely little word which is designed to haunt me. PACING. Pacing myself. I just do not learn. Maybe that is going to have to be my new word for the year. Or "learn". Or "listen". Or "remember". Or "practice". Or "discipline". Or "rest". Or .........