Single-tasking

I didn't get any knitting done last night, because I rushed home to make dinner and then to choir. Afterwards, a certain percentage of the choir usually adjourns to the pub at 52 Stafford to enjoy a pint and the live Irish music on Wednesday nights. (The fiddler is especially good, and the harpist was there last night.) Sean the bartender has an affable smile and a knack for remembering each customer's drink of choice, and it's a pleasant place to hang out all around. I haven't been in as much in recent times, but last night I felt honor-bound to be there to buy a drink in celebration of Tammy's birthday (and let her buy one to celebrate mine).

We talked about politics and bemoaned the dismal performance of our sports teams. Jokes were told, and old embarrassments were remembered fondly. And we mourned with Tammy over the fast decline of her father, who was diagnosed with brain cancer 2 months ago and is worried that he won't be able to vote in another month. (Short-term solution: absentee ballot. )

After I got home, Nora and I took a walk through the night, admiring the stars which appeared despite the moon's glare and taking in the sounds and smells of the night. (Nora spooked something at one point which might have been a possum.) And strolling along, with the evening's conversations steeping in the back of my mind, it hit me all over again how important it is to live in each moment. I get more good ideas and creative thoughts when I'm walking along with Nora and not "doing" anything than in twice as much time spent planning and brainstorming. And I can do more for my friends by simply being with them, hanging out and listening to them, then all the comfort food and platitudes could equal.

And in the end, no matter what my "to do" list says, we all win.