Whirling Debbi

We sometimes use the term 'whirling dervish' to describe someone who is frantically busy or energetic. The dictionary says a whirling dervish is:

A mystical dancer who stands between the material and cosmic worlds. His dance is part of a sacred ceremony in which the dervish rotates in a precise rhythm. He represents the earth revolving on its axis while orbiting the sun. The purpose of the ritual whirling is for the dervish to empty himself of all distracting thoughts, placing him in trance; released from his body he conquers dizziness.

I have a little countdown widget that tells me how many days until whatever event is programmed in there next. Right now, 'next' is September 23, when Mr. Shrinking Knitter and I are having a small party to celebrate our recent marriage. It might as well say '9 days until Debbi implodes.'

I've learned during the planning of this party that I have a decidedly one-track mind. The past two weekends have included short trips away from home. September 30 is the annual Roanoke NoSo Knit, for which I volunteered to provide some items. Until those items were done and mailed, which I did Tuesday, I found myself rather scattered about the party.

Yesterday I was in full-steam-ahead mode. Most of the non-perishable food has already been bought, along with paper products, but I hadn't yet ordered flowers [done!] or bought candles [done!] or even thought very much about details [doing!]. That one-track mind only lets me do one thing at a time, remember?

It's a good personality trait in many ways. The past two weekends were even more fun because I wasn't distracted by party planning.

And even though there is much left undone, my workouts and food choices are so much a part of my routine that it's not really an issue. I'm grateful that I give myself a rest day from exercise once a week. Yesterday was it; between a slightly sore left knee and many errands/much shopping in two different towns, it was both smart and necessary to take a day off. As for food, I can find healthful menu options anywhere; it's almost second nature to choose them at this point.

I say 'almost' because I still sometimes long for a fill-in-your-own-special-treat-blank instead of a grilled chicken salad. But I've learned to tell myself that I don't need to have it today. Maybe tomorrow. Or next month. Or, more likely, next year. [I am having cake at the party. A treat on the horizon! I should program that into the countdown widget. Nine days until cake!]

Today I'm going to actually list the remaining tasks on a piece of paper – double-spaced, so I can add the ones I forget first time around. My organized daughter would have made her list a month ago; she obviously didn't get her party-planning skills from me.

My calm moments are in the evenings, when I pick up my current knitting project. [I've finished the long border that goes around the Seville Jacket, and abandoned the white baby sweater for one of the twins. I replaced it with something a little lighter in weight.] It's good to have that knitting waiting for me. While I could be doing something party-related in the evenings, the sensible part of my brain and personality takes over, reminding me that all work and no play makes the Shrinking Knitter a whirling dervish.

That's soooo not a good look for me.