Time

I've known for quite a while that time goes faster as you get older, but I wasn't expecting it to go this fast!
I seriously cannot believe that it was a week ago that I wrote my Modern Art post - it feels like yesterday. Days are flying past at an amazing speed, one moment it's Monday morning and I'm on my bike thinking of the things I want to do at work that day, the next it's almost Friday afternoon and I've barely managed to squeeze everything I wanted to do into the past week. Which also included extra unexpected things, such as hauling my bike through the snow and over icy roads, and meeting people I hadn't seen for a very long time. It's not that I'm overly stressed or overly busy, it's just that even when I think I don't have lot to do, things creep into the free time that I thought I had. All nice things, but they take up time. Also, my evenings are usually pretty full, which doesn't help, because having lots of things to do makes time go even faster.
So I'm party happy that time is going fast, because it means I'm busy and doing lots of things, and as they are mostly things I like to do, without stress or other negatives attached, it's all good. I'm also partly unhappy, because it feels like I never have time to do the things I want to do whenever I have a free moment, such as finishing my book, sending a few postcards, writing a blog post (I've been meaning to write about Hemingway and the First World War for a while now), or even filling the bird feeder in the garden. The things that make you relax and make your brain stop whirring for a while. People then tell you to 'make time', and if anybody can explain to me how to pull that one off, I'll be eternally grateful.
For now, I'll just continue on the crazy-busy road filled with crazy-busy, but very nice, things.