It's Simply A Matter Of Priori~huh?

 I'm aware (and oft read) that it's a simple matter of prioritizing ones' way to efficiency.
Indeed?

In my world it's a bit more priori~huh? (as opposed to prioritize, lol)
It's not so much a question of setting task to list.
The problem is where in the list tasks belong, you see.
Apples and oranges confused comparison.

 There's the painting ~ ongoing & never-ending (lol) ~ of the old girls' exterior.

The numerous remaining beautiful old windows that need caulking still.

Barn lofts to finish clearing.

Attic corners yet to organize.

Porch repairing and 'spiffing' to be done (period fretwork found!)

Woodwork to be oiled.

Summer Kitchen porch floor (remember that post?) to be stenciled.

Bread to be made and baked (did you know there are stats confirming

 the cost - even with energy fees included -

 showing home-baked bread is half of the cost of commercial bread)?

Not to mention the aroma and 'yum' factor, lol

There are walks needed to ponder where the bees will beeeeeeee living/hiving

Where the chickens will eventually live/roost/lay/peck.

And this above is the 'short list' of to do's

Now I ask you, how do you prioritize such a list?
Ah yes, that's how I arrive at
"priori-HUH"?

I Shouldn't Have Been Surprised

No, not surprised at all. 

Many if not most of the large decisions, changes, events in my life have unfolded (or snapped me in wet towel style) unplanned and unbidden. Happily the majority improved my world. Gave my life more depth. Climbing up and down the emotional ladder rungs from confusion to insanity aside lol there's little I'd change.

This point in time, these circumstances were vastly different and intense. Challenge mixed with a heavy dose of "interesting" rolled out on the hard surface of my anger and defiance. I don't mind (now) admitting that I was emotionally at sea. Not a place I have often, if ever, found myself standing.

Trying to relocate 'center' - my center - my heart in fact ~ in this old house began from things broken. Our meeting was instigated by heart-whiplash. Never planned. This old girl never danced on the edges of any current agenda. She was on no list of mine. She was not the plan I had. Not even close. Not in the same galaxy not close.

Me. This old house. Both seeking. Both searching. Both needing. A few threads of hope hung like threadbare curtains in our storm battered eyes on the world. Her large ancient windows were dark and broken. My heart~soul~windows were equally battered dark and bruised.

Both of us found ourselves at far beyond weary. She seemed ravaged to her timbers.  My visible exhaustion was deeper than bone. I felt as tho mice were chewing on my soul.

The first time I saw her she seemed to be expecting me.

But I shouldn't have been surprised.....
No, not one bit.