Ok, that’s it. I’m going to make a list.

The dog pricks up her ears at the ‘L’ word… slinks quietly under the table where she is safely barricaded behind sixteen chair legs. You can see it written on her face as uh-oh goes through her mind. Making lists has Implications. It means there is a tornado brewing. A small one. With red hair. It means deadlines are looming with too many necessary things to be done and not enough time to pursue a leisurely path towards lift-off.

In precisely two weeks’ time I will be standing on a hillside waiting for the companions of the weekend workshop to make the ascent for a morning ritual to greet the sun. It will have begun the day before. Companions are joining us from across the world and things have to be right. Two weeks is plenty of time of course… no panic for what is left to do. The back bedroom currently resembles a small wardrobe and props department; things are being laundered, pressed, sewn and constructed. Writing is being done for a knowledge session and a meditation… but a fortnight gives plenty of time, doesn’t it?

Except, it isn’t a fortnight, is it? I leave in 12 days. And in the meantime I am away for three days and otherwise occupied for two, possibly three, and with the next in the Glastonbury talks on Thursday… and writing still to do… My job which takes up a certain amount of time each day, two houses to maintain, mine and my son’s, and two gardens desperate for attention… oh yes, and a book to revise and edit. I also have a dinner date with my sons at a special place on Monday. So I have six days still available to me, in which the domestic stuff has to allow for at least some time to sleep and attend to the dog and the usual daily tasks and responsibilities, as well as finishing the preparations here for the weekend… and you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff on that list! I have to chuckle reading through… and wonder what anyone finding it would make of it. Actually, I can imagine what one person would make of it and that delights my wicked soul.

Don’t get me wrong, I am neither complaining nor panicking. All that has to be done will be done. Anything that does not get done can wait with impunity till after the weekend. But Lists there must and shall be. I am a Virgo; I like lists. They reassure me that I have everything remembered, and there is both satisfaction and relief in ticking things off one by one. At least after the initial phase of continuously adding stuff and watching the baby elephant grow to mammoth proportions.

Until the list making phase I know I have plenty of time. Once pen hits paper, I am aware of the ticking of the clock, the sleeves are rolled up, and the offensive begins. I like to have a day or so clear before the event just to relax and prepare me too… not that it often happens, mind you, but I can dream.

Ani, of course, has seen it all before. She knows the score and sensibly makes herself scarce. Fast. There will be Hoovering.

Do you get the impression I am panicking? Think again… The excitement of countdown, jousting with the unexpected, stray dragons wandering in stage left and the occasional damsel in distress to provide with tea and a well aimed duster… or feed to the dragon if all else fails, killing two birds, as it were, with one mouthful. Doing things I love, with people I love, for something I love…I can’t believe how lucky I am. this is Living.