The cure for the common cross.

I've been so cross today I could kick the cat*.
It all started with a whim and an absolute must to do something and do it well.
But there are some days where excellence is just not on the docket. Every paper, canvas, document, I put my hand to spoiled at my approach. But I grew all the more determined to try something else and grumpier with each failed attempt.
Finally my fruitless efforts brought me to the living room floor in a very unattractive state of ennui.
When attempts all around to rouse and cheer failed miserably I decided that what I needed was (and I premised it with "you're going to think I'm silly but"...) "Ice cream and some quiet time with pious women."
And so I took myself to my little office room, shut the door to keep the rest of the family safe from my grumbling and opened Little Women to chapter 11.**
And what a timely read! I was probably only in my time out for no more than 15 minutes, but it worked wonderfully.  If you have the book, the chapter is called "Experiments", and dear Marmee knows just the cure for these cases . It's terribly old fashioned, and deliciously moral, but not without truth, as she recommends...

"Have regular hours for work and play; make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well. Then youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life will become a beautiful success. " -L M Alcott

In my case, I knew which of these was lacking, and there was a great bounding down the stairs and a booming cloud of industriousness followed. Although I had wanted to do something well all day long and for the life of me couldn't manage it, I had been ignoring the more obvious tasks in front of me (laundry, picking up toys, cleaning random bowl of popcorn kernels, etc.) The cleaning of which not only guaranteed a sure success, but also in the process of making home more pleasant for everyone I found my cheer, and (surprise of all surprises) my creativity which was hiding sneakily under all those mundane chores.
The devil.

* We don't have a cat.

**I have just recently given away a copy to a friend, and although it is not nearly time for me to read it again, I thought I would just have a little taste in honor of the gift, and read it until I found something else to read for realsies. I'm not sure if this tasting scheme will work, because I am full steam into chapter 12 now and I don't see me quitting til it's through.


Hemingway kicking a can source