# 178 ORGANIZING WASTED TIME

I have had a career, raised a family, and keep a household running for most of my life. And while doing all of this, I felt forced to set aside a lot of other things I wanted to do. Things that fall into the guilt-ridden category of ‘an ultimate waste of time’. During all those years I did not read books, or paint, or write, or tat, or knit, or crochet. Always too much guilt. Always too much shame about engaging in such an ultimate waste of time when there was weeding that needed doing, laundry, housecleaning, baking, etc.

Well I’m here to tell you today that these things are NOT an ultimate waste of time. If you enjoy these things, do them. Not at the expense of your children but at the expense of less demands on yourself to be on top of everything else. And this is why.

Since I retired I am a happier person because of all the delightful books I have read. Scads of them. Too many to count. Last winter I did other ‘ultimate waste of time’ projects. I knit Hub two pairs of socks and Hub was tickled. And I was pleased as well. I blog, and that too is an ultimate waste of time but writing is something I must do and have long waited to do.

Hub is also doing ‘ultimate waste of time’ stuff. He pounded posts and fenced the woods even though we have only imaginary beasts to put into that fencing. He built gates and trails in the woods that he grooms regularly. He created a beautiful campsite with fire pits, a biffy, and camping stalls where only imaginary campers are likely to camp. The grandchildren and the little twins next door painted signs for him to put up on posts to mark the trails. We have signposts for ‘Forest Glen’, ‘Caragana Corridor’, and ‘Haunted Tipi Trail’ (there is an old tipi structure on this trail). In his imaginary world, in his ‘ultimate waste of time’ projects, Hub even put up a sign that says, ‘Pick-U-Park (Lots 1 – 35) though in reality if any campers did want to camp here (which is not likely to happen), his campsite has only four stalls.

Looking into some distant future, the archeologists are going to be quite confused some years hence when all this stuff sinks into the clay. Already our closest neighbors are very confused. They regularly pop over and ask ‘what we’re doing’ and with obvious concern, ‘why are you doing it?’ Somehow Hub’s response that he might get an ostrich or some other large beast only causes them greater concern. I expect any day now they will be popping over to ask, ‘What day is it? When were you born? What country do you live in?’ You know, stuff like that.

But I digress. What I really want to do is encourage anyone out there wrapped in painful guilt about doing this kind of stuff to lighten up. I am filled with regret that I didn’t do more of the things I wanted to do sooner. I am annoyed that I bought into the idea that this time-wasting stuff should be shelved until retirement.

Lately I have been tatting. It is fine work, exotic work, so lovely. And seriously, I don’t mean to maliciously wound crocheter’s feelings, but in truth when tatting is compared with crocheting, the comparison is like comparing fine calligraphy with smudged newsprint.

Lately I am tatting large lacy doilies that I hope to have laminated. Either as Victorian placemats for elegant teas at YD’s hoped for Tea House or as heirlooms of a lost art for each of my daughters. But I should have done this sooner. For one thing, it is hard to get the fine thread I need. And tatting shuttles are also impossible to find. But luckily for me, originally my mother taught me to tat with a stick. So if I can’t find another shuttle when I need one, I guess I can still go back to using a smooth stick ditched in a way that allows me to wind thread around it. Hub can make me one when he is less busy with supplying fine firewood for his imaginary campers.

But more than that, what has really sealed my regrets about setting aside all the things that I considered an ultimate waste of time was the ominous news from the Eye Doctor last week. I cannot have new glasses, not until I get surgery to correct cataract. How sad I am to think that after spending a lifetime shelving the things I was longing to do, just waiting to do, I may now have to give it all up. That I might be forced to set it all aside in favor of less detailed work like helping Hub build more fence and clear more brush?

Yesterday, I was forced to set aside a large tatted doily that is almost complete. I am on the very last round and that round is almost done. But my eyes are tired, exhausted, watering, and blurring. So now I am cutting old T-shirts into strips and crocheting rugs. Not what I want to do, not what I prefer to do, but what I am forced to do. This kind of work is large enough I can do it without my glasses and without eyestrain. The rugs are nice, they give me that good feeling that comes with resourceful recycling, but making rugs not what I want to do. I want to tat.

So this blog is to prompt those who are younger than I, to go ahead and do those ‘ultimate waste of time’ things that bring such calm, peace, and enjoyment. Keep that artisan part of yourself honed and in good order at the expense of living room clutter, a bit of dust, or a few weeds in the garden.

After all, there are other things that are eating up the days of the dogged workers that just haven’t been sorted and properly labeled yet. Things like superfluous e-mail, gizmo orientations, computer stuff like virus cleansing, the unending cycle and volume of voice messaging, mundane conversation, painful socializing obligations, shopping for non-essentials, etc. etc.

All of them an ‘ultimate waste of time’!