Work - A Labor of Love

Once a task is started joy abounds.    There is always something that needs to be done to have and to hold a healthy and comfortable environment.   I have the tools, the ability and the good health necessary. No way must I feel used or unfairly pressured with an obligation.  I am blessed.

Putting coffee on in the morning, a labor of love.

Love gathering previous days clutter, i.e., discarded shoes, socks, opened mail and papers from tabletops, chairs and floors.  It’s wonderful when the wireless phone and TV control surfaces in the process

It’s a great feeling transferring the cleaned dishes, pots, pans and cutlery from the dishwasher to closets, drawers and cupboards to rest until once again needed.  Coincidently beginning to refill that most appreciated housekeeping aid with the dirty dishes left scattered about, has me feeling blessed to be able.  I’m serious.

My presence should always make a difference, a good difference in the lives of those around me.

It’s Labor Day 2015.  There are no definitive ‘fun’ plans here to celebrate this last holiday of the summer.

I’ll get some outdoor time by organizing the bulky yard furniture that’s been scattered about since last used.  The best will be taking time to sit a bit, contentedly reading the morning paper under beautiful blue skies in the still comfortable sunshine.

Back inside, I’ll start boiling water in the pasta pot.  My plan is to bring joy to the face of my grandson when he comes from work.   The recent college graduate (a brand new management trainee) is scheduled to work until noon. He loves plain and simple pasta (with nothing more than flavorful seasoning and goo gobs of grated parmesan).  He’ll be pleased.

It’s a Happy Labor Day.