I’m not a routine person.

I grew up in a household with routine and order. My sisters have easily followed in our mother’s footsteps.

Not me. I’m the black sheep of the family.

Many years ago when I had my horoscope read, I learned that I am all fire and air. Apparently I have no earth or water in my chart at all, which makes routine and organization difficult. That explanation certainly worked for me. I understood why following a routine felt like slipping into a pair of shoes that was one size too small.

I was the free spirit.

The woman of ideas and multiple interests.

I didn’t want any restrictions on my time; my creativity.

Until I became a parent.

Then I could see the value of regular bedtime, dinner at six, and clean clothes in the drawer. All in all, I did pretty well becoming a routinized parent, considering my earth/water deficits.

The need for a predictable routine again stared me in the face when our two old sweeties began to require daily medication. I’m not going to sugar coat it. I had trouble at first. Making time to go to the pasture every day just wasn’t in my life schedule. Slowly I came up with a plan and then I began to work it. I became as regular as a clock. The horses learned when to expect me and most times they were at the gate waiting. Which reinforced me to continue the routine.

Funny how that works.

These days I wouldn’t change a thing about the routine. My time at the pasture has become one of my favorite parts of the day. The routine no longer feels like too-tight shoes.

I have noticed however, that I have organized my life completely around feeding time. On the few occasions that I’ve gone to lunch with friends, or had a business meeting, I feel rushed to make it to the horses within our regular window.

And on those really rare times when I just don’t make it to the pasture at all, I feel guilty. So guilty. I think about my two old sweeties standing at the gate, waiting for me and my heart breaks. And the shoes start to pinch just a little.

Has my routine become a rut?

I would never stop the extra effort to feed Bud and Pepper. Ever. It isn’t that. I know that my trips to the pasture this winter ensured that Pepper is still here to celebrate her twenty-ninth birthday.

I suppose I’m just rambling today. Those of you who are really accomplished at routines, tell me this… How do you do it so that the routine doesn’t become a big, old, muddy rut?

I could use the advice.

P.S. Happy Birthday Jane!  Lookin’ good little sis…