Procrastination

 

“Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”

A statement attributed to Benjamin Franklin, and one of my dad’s favourite sayings. I’m not sure if he lived by it, but he was a busy man for most of his life and was always doing something. He made lists, meticulously handwritten on plain paper folded into three. He never used lined paper and it was always folded that way. Items were crossed off with one neat line upon completion. Unfinished tasks would be carried on to the list for the next day. This was likely to be, ‘Write to Alan’. I don’t think the delay was procrastination as much as it was waiting for the right moment. Alan was his brother and at this time would be living in Virginia, USA. The letter, when it happened, took time and lots of thought until it was perfectly paragraphed on to a couple of sheets of thin, pale blue, airmail stationery. These days, they would be emailing across the Atlantic, but my dad missed out on such communication. Anyway, letter written and crossed off. I don’t remember him ever losing his list. No, of course he wouldn’t. Not pedantic, but certainly a perfectionist.

Maybe I should take after him more and keep a list. I’d be less likely to put things off until I genuinely forget. Like the room upstairs, the attic and the shed. Oh, I think I’ve just listed everything. Thank goodness it’s not written down.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned our damp-proofing before. It happened in the summer and lots of things got packed up and stored upstairs. Those things were added to when more remedial work was needed. The original plan to paint walls and put the house on the market was and still is delayed. We can’t possibly need everything. I haven’t taken one thing out of a box since they were put away in June. Downstairs is quite spartan – I put a few books back on shelves, a priority – but we are preparing to move. I decided to sort the boxes out before Christmas and make the spare room look less like hoarding.

A much better idea was to shut the door on everything, go and spend some quality time in Dumfries & Galloway and enjoy a pre-Christmas break. That’s exactly what we did.

We came back in December, in time to put the Christmas tree up and a few festive bits in the front room. From the loft I called down to my husband, who was on the landing, that I would get round to sorting the ‘jumble sale’ out in the New Year and that it’s ridiculous, as is the spare room and the shed. I’m married to a wise man who wouldn’t see the need to remind me of how many times I’ve previously mentioned it.

Procrastination. That must be me. We’re in the New Year now, so I’ll see how I get on.

My Haiku,

I’m making a list
And it’s quickly grown too long.
My ‘need to do’ jobs.

More space is needed,
I must sort out the loft room.
I’ll do it next week.

And empty the shed
Of the accumulated
Packaging mountain.

PMW 2026

Happy New Year to all. Thanks for reading, Pam x

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Solitaire - Alone

My mother loved her diamond solitaire ring and wore it all the time. It was a gift from my father, bought in Hatton Gardens on one of their trips to London. She was delighted with it and I watched it twinkling like a rainbow on her finger. It would have been dwarfed by Elizabeth Taylor’s diamond, but it was large enough to be the status symbol it was intended to be. Sadly, within the year, Mum became ill again and succumbed to the cancer she had battled off and on for three years. The ring was eventually passed on to my sister. It sparkles on her hand and looks lovely. I chose pieces of my mother’s jewellery for what they mean to me, yet I rarely wear them. There will always be the pain of loss and how life changed.

Singer Andy Williams cover of Neil Sedaka’s song, ‘Solitaire’. I can’t remember exactly when I first heard it, but for some reason I associate it with moving into the small bedroom – I think I’d swapped rooms with my sister – and sorting my belongings into the fitted furniture.  I listened to music all the time, records or radio and I really liked this song. For a week it was Radio Luxembourg’s powerplay, every hour, every show. To hear it now throws me right back to that moment in time and being seventeen.

‘Solitaire’ is a card game to play solo. I learnt it as ‘Patience’ but it’s the same thing. Cards are set out in a row of seven, first one face up, others face down. The next row, miss the first card, place a card face up on the second card then place cards face down along the rest of the row. Repeat until the last pile has six cards facing down and one facing up. Remaining cards will come into play as needed. The object of the game is to place cards in sequence, King at the top, Ace at the bottom, and alternating red and black. If a face-up card is moved on to another, the face down card can be turned over. Only a King can move into a space at the top. The remaining pile of cards can be turned one by one as needed. Completion would be four columns going from King to Ace in alternate colours. I’ve never introduced myself to a points system, I’ve just taken it as far as I can then either started again or made it work out –no, it’s not cheating when you’re playing by yourself.

I found this poem by John Updike,

Black queen on the red king,
the seven on the black
eight, eight goes on the nine, bring
the nine on over, place
jack on the queen. There is space
now for that black king who,
six or so cards back,
was buried in the pack.
Five on six, where's seven?
Under the ten. The ace
must be under the two.
Four, nine on ten, three, through.
It's after eleven.

 John Updike 1932 - 2009

Thanks for reading, Pam x

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