Wednesday 16 February 2011

Creatures of habit

The Old Bat and I frequently comment how much dogs are creatures of habit. Or maybe it's just ours. Anyway, Fern does like to stick to a routine. After I have finished the breakfast washing up (very little, since crockery and cutlery go in the dishwasher) she knows that it is time for a walk. There are days when I would prefer to do otherwise, but a walk we have. Then again after lunch, as soon as the washing up is under way, she starts fidgeting for the afternoon walk. All is quiet for the rest of the afternoon but when the Old Bat starts washing up the bits and pieces she has used while preparing the evening meal, Fern will come to find me (as if to tell me I need to pick up a tea towel) and she will also pick up her kong. She associates this washing up session with a game and I am expected to interrupt my work to throw the kong for her to catch from time to time. Last thing at night, as soon as I put down my book, she gets up from beside my feet and trots off to her bed.

What bothers me is just how much I, too, am a creature of habit. This has been brought home to me particularly this morning. Yesterday evening I collected my brother and sister-in-law from Gatwick after they returned from a holiday in Tromso. (Seeing the Northern Lights was a fantastic experience for them.) They stayed the night with us before setting off this morning for their home in far Cornwall. Naturally, I waited until after they had gone before even thinking of walking the dog. But by then, Fern's routine was so much out of kilter that she didn't even think of a walk. And I was surprised to find how much I missed it and how much it threw me out because my routine had been broken.

I'm not at all sure that I want to be a creature of habit and routine, but I suspect that I will continue to put the teapot and tea strainer in exactly the same spot on the work top as I always do, I will continue to follow my regular habits - and stay in my comfortable rut. I suppose having a routine for doing things does at least mean that bits and pieces are less likely to be forgotten. One must try to see these foibles in a positive light.

3 comments:

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip said...

When I was working, I hated having anything mess up my routine. Inevitably I would then likely forget something else in the routine and the day would become an adventure.


v word = peparing

Brighton Pensioner said...

An adventure. Yes - I like it. Here's to more of them.

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip said...

...and to spontaneity.