No Do Days

A friend had a stepfather she didn't particularly like very much. I think her feelings were fairly conflicted on that matter as he was very good to her mother. He'd been a lifelong bachelor and only married her mother when he was in his mid-sixties after his own mother died. He was handsome but fairly boring and came from an old Toronto family and still had the airs and graces (but alas no wealth) which went a long way to attracting her mother.

The marriage lasted over thirty years and ended upon his death in his mid-nineties. He never had any of the worldly worries that beset most of us. His mother took care of him. She died. Then his newfound wife took over. Hardly a wrinkle on him, full head of white hair. Tall.

Anyway the point of all this backstory is to bring the title of this post into play. This man never worked up a sweat over anything. He often took to sulking in his car when his wife wanted to visit her adult children.

BUT, a couple of times a week he would declare "A No Do Day" and we would have a bit of a hoot about this as he never lifted a finger on any day. No Do Days were days spent in his pyjamas and sleeping a lot to recover from, well, what he viewed as stress. We could never figure out what stress. It's all subjective I suppose. He would work himself up into a lather now and again if it came to even making a decision about getting a new vacuum cleaner. Or car. Or phone. Or selling his bit of stock. He would take to his bed and No Do for a a whole day. No Do meant no thinking also.

Maybe that's why he lived to 95 with no wrinkles and a full head of hair and lovely erect posture. No Do Days.

So I declared one today. It's a gorgeous day out there. And I haven't been outside. And my lovely comfy pyjamas are still on me. And I asked the dog to run around the meadow in lieu of. And she did. I've bored you all with her brilliance. She just takes care of herself when I ask her to. And now she's lying on the deck slobbering over a big bone given to her by one of her adoring aunties.

And what DID I do? Well, nothing. I didn't even cook but reheated leftovers. And watched Sons of Anarchy Season 2 recommended by a good friend who, like me, loved The Wire and The Sopranos. Not for the faint of heart but appealing to those of us with a good slice of darkness in our souls.

No Do.

Try it.