Today tastes like burned coffee and cloves, with a sauce of reduced printer's ink. I'd spit it out if I could--not even bourbon is cutting this crap.
However, I am not Jo Ito; I am not going to spatter my worklife across this blog. I'll be happy to rant in private to whose who will drop a dime and call my land line but I will not give the Toxicboss any more fuel than I just have.
So-- on to more interesting subjects.
I was thinking about knitting and writing, because with the current ATC obsession that’s about all I can do. My dance card is sooooo full for March and April. I will need to remember this feeling, this feeling like I’m spread too thin for all that nourishes and encourages me, stretched like the fat man in the Monty Python sketch so when the lists whisper “wafer thin” I’ll be able to refuse. I can see the cage of my ribs, with my heart leaping about inside—and my dinner and liver and lights strewn over the landscape of properly starched tablecloths.
And in my thinking I tapped the Big Bad Muse on the shoulder, because I hadn’t heard from him in a while as regards knitting and writing; we’ve been having so much fun in the realm of paper (and don’t even think of bookbinding. Even now, I plan purchases of plastic storage sheets and slips for mailing; the mysteries of Coptic stitch are behind me, my piercing cradle lies empty as a SIDS crib.) Big mistake. I should understand the difference between a Gollum “Not listening” and a muse that’s thinking rather than blabbering. Pounce!!!!
Boom boom boom, three ideas for Soy Silk right in a row, another ATC line for the “She” series, and a burning desire to prowl through all the writing books and note down the prompts that move me on 3x 5 cards so when I’m feeling dry I can pull one and go! knowing that I’ll have a good one.
And there will be no relief this weekend. My new car is due on Friday, so that means at the least we’ll be playing a game of “wolf, cabbage, goat” to get all the vehicles home. Saturday is a blanket bee, so the current plan is for First Consort Gareth to arrange for temporary tags as soon as it’s unloaded, I’ll meet him at his work after I get done here, and drive the new car (I think of him as Sherman, though FC Gareth disagrees) home, leaving Huitzilipochli to fend for himself overnight. (Which should be fine. I’ve left him there over the weekend before.) That way, we can stop in on the way to or from the blanket bee and pick up Huitzilipochli, and deal with registering Sherman.
Which leaves Sunday Sunday Sunday (said in a booming bass voice with lots of reverb). Woof. The day of errands and laundry and all the other stuff that keeps this house from being condemned and destroyed. Not time to sit in front of the DVD player and knit along with Sir Ian and the gang; not time to embroider in front of the computer. And I’ve gotta get the ‘E’ Series and the ‘Painted’ series out this week, no joke.
Fortunately I’ve cut “ecdysis” out and am ready to paste it down, I have plans for “eremite,” and the other three should be fairly easy—“elegiac” can be cut from the warm grey watercolor, and if I find a fun liquor ad I can add a sixth to the series of “ebrious.” If I drop an hour or two tonight I should be able to finish that series and varnish ‘Painted’ so they can dry overnight and then I can envie them up Thursday and get them in Friday’s mail. WOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!
I’m so very nearly almost done with the ‘Good Word’ fabric series, so another hour or two should get that hosed. And then I can finish them Sunday, well ahead of schedule. The Thriller Shawl has another seven rows to go (maybe eleven, I haven’t decided yet) and that’s not due till May—but I am heartily sick of the long long rows.
Ah, but the beaded series. Haven’t decided which would be faster/cooler – embroidery with pearl flowers and little sparkly leaves, or if I would do better to stitch words down in bits of glitter. I only need to do four for the swap, so if I did nine that would leave five for random trades. The beaded ATC’s aren’t due till mid-April, so I have time, especially if I continue to hold that out as the “while you’re on the world wide wait, why not do something?”
So—not impossible; never impossible. Just that I have to stick to my lists and do the do. It’s so easy for me to feel like it’s done, I’ve been thinking about it for ages, I’ve put it on my list—whaddaya mean it’s only in my head! It’s right here . . . oh. In my head.