Day after day, I rise from my bed, have a shower, shave, do my ablutions, and make sure I leave the bathroom and bedroom neat clean and tidy.
Then I go to the kitchen and make tea, coffee, and porridge. The coffee is my part of the breakfast I don’t eat anything until lunchtime.
I put the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and depending on how full the dishwasher is turn it on to a 43-minute cycle. I never have to clean the gunk out of the dishwasher because that’s all washed off in the sink before the plates and utensils go to the dishwasher.
I take the washing in its basket from our bedroom and laundry door downstairs and put it in the washing machine. I said the machine for a one-hour cycle – always remembering of course to put in the soap powder.
As the washing is washing, I clean the filter on the dryer and get it ready to receive the clothes when washed. That’s necessary at this time of the year because it’s often quite wet and you can’t use an outside line.
Then comes bird-feeding time, along with pot plant watering.
So, that’s the foundation of each day, for poor old Henry Gray. The day goes on from there.
“Porridge” is so Dickensian. Love it. Nobody says that in the U.S. I think it’s our oatmeal – or maybe Cream of Wheat?
It has always been porridge to me.
I think I would love to have a standard routine I do day after date but it eludes me. Maybe if I started with one babystep at a time.
You get used to it after a while. It almost becomes automatic.