A Single Woman's Daybook: Day 2

Headed out the door. A single woman is always on-the-go, I guess.

I woke up at 9:30 this morning. That was the latest I have slept in at least 19 months--but probably even longer, since during those last few months of pregnancy you don't sleep very well. Let's call it an even two years then, shall we?

I was so disoriented, upon waking up with the sun streaming down on my face, that I didn't know who or where I was. Fortunately, I woke up because the phone was ringing, and Kevin's voice on the other end quickly brought me back to reality. He and Colin were doing fine. Colin slept during the entire three-hour flight to Toronto, and he'd spent all Saturday playing with a box of Daddy's old Tonka trucks and Happy Meal prizes that his Nan had been saving for him. I could even hear my little boy squealing with delight in the background. All was well with the world.

Back here in Edmonton, however, I had overdone it a bit. For my first day as a free woman, I had tried to pack in as many things as I could--too many in fact. I was sore and felt hungover, even though I hadn't been drinking on my Saturday night-on-the-town. After dropping the boys off at the airport, breakfast on the deck, and a long walk with the dog, I went to my regular Saturday morning yoga class, where I really pushed it--well, as much as one can push it in a class called "Gentle Hatha Yoga and Meditation."

Anyway, I had hardly said Nameste before I was off again (I know, not very Zen of me)--this time to the farmers' market to buy a few pre-prepared meals for the week. I normally only buy raw ingredients at the farmers' market, but my goal for this week--at least while the boys are out of town--is to not cook a single meal and not go to the grocery store once. So, I stocked up on homemade pita and hummus and tapenade, chicken fajitas, a brick of spicy cheddar, and someone else's homemade bread.


I barely had time to make a tiny meal of all of this before I was back in the car and driving out to Devon to visit the plant nursery. The drive to Devon was beautiful. The sun had finally peeked out from behind the clouds, the wheat was golden, and the corn was standing tall in the fields. It was the perfect setting for a little Lucinda Williams, and I belted out "Car Wheels on a Gravel Road" with such enthusiasm, that I missed my exit.

Of course, I let my enthusiasm get the better of me and left the nursery with far too many perennials. (They were half-off, it was easy to do.) So I spent all afternoon trying to rearrange my front flowerbeds to accommodate all the new peonies, phlox, purple cone flowers, heliopsis, delphiniums and globe thistles. Before I knew it, it was 6:00, and I barely had time to shower and get the dirt out from under my fingernails before I was due to meet a couple of girlfriends' for a planned night out-on-the-town.

The nursery beckons me with its siren's call of half-priced perennials.

I know, I know. This is never going to fit.

Although it was just dinner and drinks, by 11:00 p.m. we all decided to call it a night. We're all moms after all--one of us the mom of the newborn. But even though I had no round-the-clock feedings to face, I think I was probably the tiredest mama of all. Turns out, being a carefree single gal is pretty exhausting. Today, I plan to take things much more easily: just brunch with a friend, and curling up with a book on the couch. Oh, and more planting, prunning, watering and mowing.