Controlling the Time Confetti
Keeping my schedule from being fragmented into a million pieces is an ongoing battle. Some weeks it’s easier than others. Winter usually has less time confetti than the warmer months. (That may be why I prefer it.) Although I have learned to maximize little bits of time here and there, I still have projects to which I would like to devote single-minded focus for several hours (or a whole day), especially when I need to puzzle out some construction or design issue. It is almost physically painful for me to have to stop and switch gears in the middle of that process, and that, in turn, makes me hesitant even to start.
I taught serger classes on Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday, Susan and Elysian and I spent five hours putting the homestead foundation quarterly newsletter together to mail. That had been on the schedule for several months and I knew it was going to take a good chunk of the day. Even with three of us working and a new paper folding machine (it is so slick), it still takes five hours to do the newsletter because we are limited by the speed of my copier. The copier will print 300 double-sided pages per hour. We send out 1500 newsletters.
You get a photo of the new paper folding machine because I don’t have any other pictures for you:
This absolutely was money well spent.
I looked at my calendar and didn’t see anything for Thursday or Friday, but as he was leaving for work yesterday morning, the husband said he had gotten my snow tires out and I remembered that I needed to get that taken care of. (He could do it here were it not for those stupid tire pressure monitors on most cars now.) I try to get tires changed by the end of September or beginning of October. Most people wait until it actually snows, and then it’s a mad rush. The tire places do not take appointments. It is first come, first served. I traced a few patterns before heading to craft co-op, where I popped in and visited for 15 minutes, then continued on to town.
On my first foray through the tire place’s parking lot, I could not find a spot. I left and ran some errands and came back about an hour later. (It was 12:30.) I was able to find a parking spot and went in and talked to one of the owners. I need new snow tires this fall, but I do not want to put those on until later in the season because I don’t want to drive new studded tires on bare roads. The current set will be adequate even if we get a surprise early snowstorm. I went ahead and ordered the new ones, and the owner said, “Come back in an hour and we will fit you in.” We chatted a bit about how busy they were so early in the season and the owner told me she thought it was because so many new people had moved to the valley.
[I will stay home the first time it snows because I don’t want to be out there when all of these newcomers discover that watching a YouTube video on winter driving did not prepare them for the real thing.]
I went and had lunch and came back as requested. They were able to get my car in and the tires changed and I was home by 3:30. I took care of chicken chores and made dinner and wondered where the day had gone.
I realize I am whining about a first-world problem, but it’s my blog and this influx of newcomers has caused all sorts of issues here. While I was waiting to go back to the tire place to get my tires changed, I stopped in at the quilt store north of town to pick up fabric for a project. Mary, one of the women who works there, said she had spent two whole days doing nothing but sewing. I told her that sounded heavenly.
Therefore, today and tomorrow—after we get the potatoes dug up—are going to be devoted to nothing but sewing. I am going to work on those projects, mostly for future classes, that are going to require some experimentation. I will get projects stacked that I can work on in the evenings or at craft co-op. I will close the curtain on the kitchen door and make it look like no one is home. I’ve got podcasts and videos queued up and dinner will go into the crock pot to cook. Wish me luck.