About Me

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Eleven years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Retired, and mostly enjoying it. Still knitting. [Zen]tangling.again after a brief hiatus.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

A quiet, putter-y evening at home

Love ’em. I spent a very productive 45 minutes in my studio last night, shifting things around. This morning I will go through two three Rubbermaid tubs of [probably fairly generic] Christmas stuff. The important stuff, I’m keeping. The other stuff goes to the thrift store if it’s in good shape, or into the trash if time and repeated schlepping have taken it past the point of shabby-chicness.

Before that, I spent half an hour or so folding the last of this morning’s batch of shredding, preparatory to feeding the shredder its breakfast. Two more battered empty cardboard boxes will wend their way to the recycling bin, along with the bags of shredded paper.

And before that, I hopped in the car and made a quick run to JoAnn’s, to get new blades for my Olfa cutter. I think the last time I bought them, circa 2003, I spent about $5 per blade and was verging on a hissy-fit. Now a single blade (45mm) costs between $10 and $12; you can get two blades for $16, and $32 will get you five.

So, I now have five, although I would rather not have shelled out $32 in one whack. At my current rate of quilt construction, I may very well have bought enough blades to last the rest of my life.

When I have these three tall tubs sorted out, and a smaller one over here by the coffee table, I will tackle the stack of cardboard boxes atop the sofa table [the one that Brother Sushi helped me to build a few years ago] and then the ones atop the skinny folding table that is in the corner, in front of the east window. The latter boxes have followed me from our house in Irving, to Fredericksburg, to storage, to Arlington, to here. Nineteen years.

Assuming that the boxes on top of the sofa table are filled with more paper to be shredded, and that I have not had to send the shredder to the mechanical equivalent of the Betty Ford Center [paper is a substance, right?], I can then begin to transfer things from the fainting couch to the shelves of the sofa table and/or the folding table. My goal (which I came up with about an hour before bedtime) is to go through all the boxes in my studio and deal with the contents, by the end of Thanksgiving weekend.

Eminently achievable, since I have no intention of joining the feeding frenzy on Black Monday. I may do a modicum of Christmas decorating next week, or if my studio is basically rearranged (if not entirely whipped into shape) I may just start working my way through my vast assortment of UFO’s.

Here is a shot of the south wall of my studio, in progress. The brown blob on the left is the armoire which I bought because it says “pyjamas” on one of the shelves. Eventually I will tidy the top of said armoire, but at the moment I have smellier fish to fry. Those shoeboxes which you see stacked in front of the yarn bins, hold things which are not needleworkish in nature and must be Dealt With.



Those books are likewise not needleworkish in nature and must be moved to a bookcase, either in my room or in the hall.

There has been knitting. I finished the ribbing on the second missionary hat last night and have worked the transition row and added twelve stitches to my needle.

But now it’s 7:00a.m., and I’m hungry, and I want to go to the pool, and then there are four tubs to sort and brownies to bake for tonight’s dinner and dance, and stray eyebrows to eradicate, and I’m due for a manicure and a haircut and I’m making myself tired, just thinking about it.

I got a lot accomplished here at home this week, and I’m pleased. My needlework tools are more accessible than they were, and the clutter is markedly less. (I know it doesn’t look that way in my carefully-cropped photo. You will have to trust me, and when it’s all done I’ll do a photoshoot in there, especially when I can get at the walls that are not occupied by vertical storage and hang up the rest of my pictures, which now fill several small boxes and at least one drawer in the wooden file cabinet by my studio door.)

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