"Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in." Henry David Thoreau

It is longer than I thought since I last up-dated this blog. This is partly due to that retirement syndrome that leads retirees to perpetually shake their heads while muttering: “I just don’t know how I found the time to work; I’m always busy but I don’t know what I’ve been doing . . . .“

Having lived my working life in fifteen minute increments to keep up with a demanding schedule and at the same time enjoy the clients who visited me daily I was definitely a slave to the clock. If I was in the middle of the woods on the blackest of nights without a watch on I could still tell you what time it was within a few minutes. I know, without looking, what time I opened my eyes in the morning and what time it is when my brain shuts down sometime the next morning.

Here in Mexico it would seem that each day’s schedule is established by a single sentiment –-MANANA--. I frequently consider just throwing my watch into Lake Chapala and I probably would if it didn’t hold such sentimental value. It was a gift from my parents when I finished university which, incidentally, was about thirty years behind schedule on that but apart from my tardiness in getting a formal education, I am mostly on time for appointments.

I do recognize that I am an absolute tyrant when it comes to time management. Cath on the other hand is largely unchanged by retirement when it comes to schedules and respecting them. A watch on her wrist is one of those useless bobbles that might just as well be worn in her ears (where she can’t see it) for all the significance that it holds.

Yesterday we were going out to lunch with friends; before that I had a couple of errands to run. My errands had to be taken care of before lunch, as businesses in Mexico typically close at two (or shortly before) for siesta and may or may not open again at four (or shortly after) depending on the whim of the merchant. But yesterday was Saturday. Double whammy! On Saturday, two o’clock is the end of the business week . . . PERIOD!

I started the day early, had my bath, got dressed and set about feeding the dogs and doing a few things while I waited for Cath to get ready. When I had run out of things to do I decided just to do a little finishing work on a chest that I have been painting. I was being oh so careful not to get paint on my clothes and little by little I applied paint and resisted calling out to Cath with instructions to “get the lead out.”

I had some coffee, I got fed up painting because it is too hard if you have to worry about keeping it off your clothing and therefore not an enjoyable pastime. I went into the back yard and picked up the poop. I took a few pictures, I played ball with Hadley and finally . . . FINALLY!!! I heard Cath coming out of the bedroom and I thought: “at last!” But no. Out strolls Cath, still in a bathrobe, uttering that familiar refrain: “I can’t think of anything to wear!”

I have to admit my peevishness escalated into a full blown rant as I reminded her of the importance of leaving on time to catch the art store open, and still be on time for lunch with Fran and Bill.

Did you ever watch Lucy pull the football away just as Charlie Brown is about to kick it to kingdom come? If you have then you will understand the futility of timekeeping in Mexico with Cath!