It finally occurred to me this afternoon that instead of getting down on the floor to pin and measure and adjust what needed pinning and measuring and adjusting, I could do all of that on a bed.
And of course I had Jack to oversee the operation.
I had planned to get the quilt/blanket to the stage today where everything was done and the letters cut out and ready to sew on with embroidery stitches. And by the way- Maggie wants it to say "Maggie."
And I may leave it there as to layers of flannel or I may do something else. I'm not sure. I'm letting it all simmer in my brain tonight.
I'm not very happy with how it's coming along. I'm not very happy with anything today, truthfully. It's been gray all day long and getting colder and might freeze tonight. I have not brought one plant in but am hoping that being on porches will protect them at least enough that they don't die.
So maybe it's the weather affecting me or maybe I'm just paying for my days of slothfulness or maybe it's just one of those days. I don't know. But even when I sat down at the piano I felt despair. It occurs to me that not only am I still making the same mistakes I was making a week ago- I am making the same mistakes I made as a child. This is a rather depressing thought, as it is clearly apparent to me that there will be no time in the foreseeable future in this lifetime where my piano playing will improve in the least.
Honestly, I was embarrassing myself this afternoon.
But just now Lis called and I am tremendously cheered. She allows me my black humor and black humors, as well. She makes me laugh and I make her laugh and we commiserate and celebrate and encourage each other. It's a beautiful thing.
I've only heard from my husband once today. He sent me a picture of their breakfast this morning. Unlike the woman who cooked for them on his other trip to Canada a few weeks ago who was very heavy on the canned peas and cooked carrots, which he hates, the woman who hosts them near Edmonton appears to make homemade bread, buns, cakes, soups, and delicious casseroles. Sending me pictures of these meals is tantamount to sending me pictures of a college girl in a bikini.
Meanwhile, I send him pictures of Maurice's butt when she tries to cuddle with me which is not often, the deep meaning of which can be interpreted as "Come home, your insane cat misses you."
Well. We work with what we have.
Tomorrow I will be going to town to pick up Levon and August from school and hopefully entertaining them. I will be so glad to see them. I hope they will be glad to see me. Oh hell. I just realized I have no treats for them. WHAT KIND OF A GRANDMOTHER AM I?
Maybe I'll teach them to crochet. That's better than ice cream or cookies or video games, right?
No. No it is not.
And on Saturday, my boyfriend is coming home. I have no idea what time. I suppose I should ask him. If he'll be here for supper I need to make homemade bread, buns, cakes, soup, and a delicious casserole. Also a salad from our garden.
As I said, we work with what we have.
Even when you're glum, you're funny! How come these hunting trips lay on cooks? I thought people took care of themselves hunting.ReplyDelete
I imagine you would enjoy feeding a bunch of hungry men. The weather was better today, no wind.ReplyDelete
I spent the day patching the quilt and refinishing a table for my father in law.
I don't think there's anything wrong with your quilt, just how you're feeling. Thinking on it sounds like a good idea.
I have days like this. They come and they go, But tomorrow you will have grandsons. The day after that, you will have your beloved. If we are lucky, it all kind of balances in the end.ReplyDelete
When we are blue everything is shaded blue. Your quilt looks lovely. Jack looks lovely. I'm sure Maurice's bottom is lovely and Mr Moon appreciated the thought. Roll on Saturday and whatever you cook will be ambrosia to him.ReplyDelete
Your quilt looks beautiful! The rest of the post made me laugh a bit -- I hope that's all right. I really don't see Mr. Moon shacking up with someone up there, no matter how good her dumb pies, biscuits and soups are.ReplyDelete
Most of those things can be made a day or two in advance, all you'll need to make on the day he comes home is the bread. I'm sure the lack of sunshine is contributing to your mood, it does mine although it never used to. August and Levon will help cheer you up.ReplyDelete
And then of course there's the eternal possibility that when you've laid out your quilt beautifully and tacked it (had to look that back up in English), that when you pick it up you will have sewn it to the bedspread. And THEN you'll know it really has been one of those days!ReplyDelete
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You could entertain the boys with a made-up song - including piano accompaniment....ReplyDelete
August and sweet Levon
Make me feel I'm in heaven
Cos I'm their grandmaw, yes I am!
I'll feed them with beans,
Fresh garden greens
And chunks of tender boiled ham
(I have not come up with a suitable chorus yet...)
I've been in a November frame of mind. Maybe you too,though November in Florida is different than November in Minnesota, it's still the month of the dead and all....ReplyDelete
In the end, the happies hopefully balance out the blues. Today, the grandsons are coming. Tomorrow, the man comes. Things look brighter from where I'm sitting. Hugs!ReplyDelete
In my experience it's hard to be all chippy and cheerful when the weather is cold and overcast (like here and adding wind to that). UGH.ReplyDelete
Darling Mary, your dark humor (despair humor) made me smile because I understood it so well. Of course, a college girl in a bikini would not turn you man's gaze away from you, because the buns and cakes he gets at home are far superior to anything else. Rest assured. I too had an epiphany about the floor versus the bed when I realized I could do my PT exercises lying on the bed instead of grunting on the floor. We do what we must. Love you, woman.ReplyDelete
P.S. Quit judging your piano play! Let your fingers float and play your heart out. It's more than I could do.ReplyDelete
I hope you and Mr. Moon have a delicious homecoming.ReplyDelete
I'm sure Mr. Moon is happy to receive photos of Maurice's butt! Home sweet home!ReplyDelete
Love that you're playing the piano. Reminds me of a Vonnegut quote about doing lots of things, even if you aren't any good at them. Did you ever get it tuned? Add my vote to the bunch- get it tuned! So worth it. Love you.ReplyDelete