Attention!...(It's Not Just For Soldiers Anymore.)

Okay, this is what I've noticed about attention:

If the average person has X units of attention in their attention reservoir, the way they choose to divide it has a characteristic look to it at certain times of their life.

Say that we each have 100 units of attention. During the early parenting years, 95 of them are spent on kids, 5 spent on spouse, none spent on ourselves. Later, as the kids get older, 50 of them are spent on kids, 30 are spent on spouse, and 20 are tentatively spent on ourselves...but we feel guilty the whole time.

So finally the kids are grown. Suddenly your daily allotment of attention units are up for grabs, and it becomes a little mini-crisis to decide how to use them. Suddenly free will has come back into your life...and you freak out.

Which is why, in your mid '40s, you decide that you need to put in a half acre garden and become a combination of Bob Villa and a New York Times book reviewer. Because the precious commodity of attention units are languishing unused on your mental shelf, and you're afraid that if you don't take them down and exercise them, they'll go the way of all your other unexercised parts.

Balance. That's the objective. Write that down, Lori.

Mission Accomplished!

Aha! I get it now! When Bush was standing on the deck of that aircraft carrier four years ago, we all thought he was talking about the war. But really he was talking about his garden!

He actually meant that he had planned his garden and started his seeds! Whoops! Talk about a major communication breakdown. Our bad.

So in the interest of clarity, let me just say unequivocally: Mission accomplished. The seeds are started.

Should I be wearing a flight suit for that announcement?

A Public Declaration of Ambition

Last year when we moved here we managed to pack up an entire U-Haul worth of stuff without bringing anything to sit on, so the first thing I did after we settled in a little was make a couple of adirondack chairs and a little table for the porch.

Almost immediately, my neighbor came over to tell me I should be making them by the hundreds and selling them. Okay...c'mon. They're comfortable and nice looking, but they're adirondack chairs. You make them with lumber, decking screws and a circular saw. This is not fine woodworking.

Had I known at the time that this would be my last wood project for a year, however, I might have taken some extra time to make a dozen more and at least get something accomplished. Because at this point, the only thing I've done with wood in the last year is gather it up from the yard and set it on fire.

So next week I have a five day weekend, and I'm hungering for a nice productive wood project. I think I may have to actually schedule recreational activities into my long weekend so I don't let it slip away.

I want to start a wood project...and I don't have a clue yet what that will be. Also, I'd like to till up a patch of the yard for an actual garden this year, and not just the tomato patch in front of the porch like last year. And lastly, I want to spend a day fishing.

And I know me...if I don't set some goals around those leisurely sounding projects, I'll sit around the house, sleep 'til noon, watch Netflixs, and the next thing I know, my mini-vacation will be over.

So...here's my plan:

Tomorrow, I'll buy seeds and start them in flats.

This weekend, I'm going to pick a spot for the garden, and pick a wood project.

Wednesday, since it's the day before payday, I'll buy chicken wire, 1 x 2s and maybe a compressor to run my air tools...and put together a fence. If there's any time left over, I'll fish. And drink beer.

Thursday: I'll buy a tiller and tear up the yard. After my arms stop shaking, I'll go to the wood store and pick up whatever I need for whatever I'm going to make.

Friday: I'll continue working on the garden project and the wood project, and fix whatever I screwed up the previous two days.

And if I can get that far, I'll be supremely happy with myself.

And now that I have a written record, I'll have something to look back at next week when I'll have forgotten I had these grand ideas. As always, pictures will follow. Wish me luck.