Well, this is embarrassing. I've stumbled for three days to write a single word, not to mention 1,000 of them.
I do have something to show for it, however. I've been cooking:
Chicken/Veggie Stirfry
Grilled Pork/Roasted Vegetables:
Sweet Potato, Asparagus, Red Pepper
And making shit. I'm dying some cloth for my grandchild's Halloween costume:
Fun with chemistry at home
Had to stir the boiling dye for 45 minutes.
Felt like a Shakespearean witch. And liked it.
The long rinse.
The final denim colored cloth!
They will be a tiny chef (squeeee!) for Halloween and the blue fabric will be made into an apron with the logo of their father's restaurant on the front.
Here's the coat (that I did not make--because I could NOT find a damn pattern so I had to buy this one). I will have to deconstruct and alter it because it's too big:
See also Tbsp prop which will look like a
regular wooden spoon in their little hands.
Here is the little chef's hat that I did make. There's a velcro closure in the back for adjusting to growing heads. I'm awash in the cuteness:
An inverted vase stands in for baby's noggin.
So here's the deal. Can I be a writer and still pursue all this fabulous fun making shit? I think so. But I can't do it all at the same time. Right now, the urge to do everything all the time is constant. I am hopping from one project to the next. But every project (or project segment) takes about four hours. If I have to cook and finish sewing, that's my day (more or less). If I write, I can only choose one other secondary activity before I'm done for the day. And all that is thrown into chaos when we have company or go visit friends.
I'm not really complaining--just adjusting my expectations. I will continue until I complete the 14-day, 1,000 word/day project because it has been hard and rewarding. Those days may not be consecutive but that's okay.
We've just returned from having lunch with one of my dearest friends. A member of our family of choice. He is housebound and chronically ill. A year ago, unexpectedly, he lost his wife--who was also his caretaker and lifelong companion. It is difficult to see him cope but he is coping. He is a priority in my life and now that I'm retired and fully vaccinated (and so is he), seeing him regularly is one of my goals. Which activity also needs at least 4 hours dedicated to it. He is very funny and dear. And I feel so fortunate to have him in our life.
The pandemic refocused many things. My love of solitude and making. How visiting with a select group of friends is one of the only reasons I will step away from my sanctuary and projects. The inner circle of my life is filled with so many fucking outstanding people.
Yesterday we had a friend (well, mostly my partner's friend--people love the Saint so much, they'll accept my friendship as part of the package) come by and stay for the day. It was delightful. There was day-drinking. WHO AM I? This is a new me. Bourbon? At lunchtime? Yes, I guess that's how it's going to be.
Tomorrow another of our besties (see above package deal) will come over for dinner. We are celebrating his new job, Marriage Equality Day and LGBTQIA Pride weekend. I will cook but I don't know what. He's a vegetarian which makes it easier because, you know, limiting the pool of choices gives me less to overthink. Jesus, I can overthink the shit out of things.
Oh, and in and among all this making, writing and socializing, I am committed to learning to enjoy the not-doing. Really stopping my frenetic approach to everything in order to lay fallow and regroup. Which is what I am going to do right now...wish me luck.
P.S. Remind me to post a pic of the little darling in their tiny chef's ensemble!
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