Torn Between my Loves

There's such a fine line to 24 hours, and just how much I can reasonably accomplish or enjoy.   Yet, I am torn everyday, even with lists giving me places, errands to run, and tasks to finish.  The list is never fully complete before I start another one.  The lists don't show my true loves, they only take time away from them.

My true loves are spending time with family and friends, playing golf with friends, writing, gardening, exercising and walking the dog.  The irony lies in this warm weather.  By November my golf clubs are usually dusty and my mind hasn't given a thought to playing golf or gardening, but this year nature is giving us a real fall and I'm making every effort to be outside and enjoy every minute of it.  Until December 6, I was still digging in my gardens.  Newly planted surprise lily bulbs will do just that, surprise me next summer.  A transplanted iris garden will shed purple, white, and golden colors for a few weeks this coming spring, and Jack and I will toast a glass of wine to their beauty.

The awesome Greensburg duo of Letty and Jayne playing golf in Kansas December 2.

We've traveled to OU football games and visited with friends and family;  toasted to childhood memories at our (Weaver) family's first reunion this Thanksgiving; and managed to play golf on November 30 and then again on December 2.  I've loved every minute of these memories, but still I'm torn.

My brain and my emotions love it when I just sit and write or read.  I don't handle interruptions well when I'm playing in my head, and so I need cold winter days that keep me inside and nothing else on my calendar.  My brain frequently replays a quote by Georgia O'Keefe, "In order to do one thing right you have to give up 12 other things."  My dad said something similar whenever I wanted to be an Olympic swimmer or tennis player, "Tizzie, learn to do ONE THING well, first, then you can enjoy the others."  Over the years, they were both right.  I learned to be a tenacious golfer; a well versed student; a creative teacher.  Along the way I learned to be a storyteller and puppeteer.    Now, I'm doing those twelve other things, with a tug...Write  Write   Write.  There are stories in my head nearly drowning trying to get out, get down on paper.

This afternoon the North winds blew cooler weather our way.  I turned off the outside faucets, rolled up the hoses, and came inside.  I've played with my blog drafts, filled in photos that were deleted when my blog went haywire, written short notes about Miami, called friends, toasted a glass of wine to a creative muse named Tizzie.  She's back.  She's happy, her twin Letty dislikes the cold north wind, but Tizzie is happy.