Find Time

I’m all about creating “found time” these days.

One way I do this is by padding my schedule with extra drive time so I can slow down and not be affected by traffic.  If it takes twenty minutes to get where I’m going, I give myself thirty or forty. Now, if I catch every light red, or get stuck behind a slow poke, there’s no anxiety.

If it takes me an hour to get ready, I give myself an hour and a half. This allows time to deal with a mascara emergency, or a wardrobe malfunction.

I’ve examined all areas of my life where I can add a few extra minutes here or there to all my tasks, and it’s like magic. I don’t rush and I don’t worry or fret. And I still get everything done.

Now I have pockets of extra minutes in my day to think, to daydream, to puzzle things out…to let my mind relax–which is a sure way to cultivate creativity!

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When You’re Too Old For Bubble Suits

This is a short excerpt from my second book; Don’t Worry Your Pretty Little Head, The Childhood Memoir of a towheaded Air Force Brat.

Mama doesn’t love sewing but she’s pretty good at it, and on an enlisted man’s salary, is forced back to the sewing machine to make most of our clothes when we’re very young.

She makes several things we call ‘bubble suits’ which are basically onesies with elastic at the top of each leg and buttons at the top of each shoulder. You only had to undo one button to step into the suit, put one arm through the arm hole, then put your other arm in place and button that side.

There’s a pretty bubble suit with little yellow flowers on it that’s my favorite. I put it on one summer day and notice that it’s kind of tight, but I leave it on and go outside to play. Mama sees me a while later and scolds me to ‘go inside and change before that thing cuts you in half’.

I’m probably six or seven and too old to be wearing a bubble suit anyway, but it is a sad day because I know that I have just outgrown all the homemade ‘baby’ clothes Mama made for us.