Thanksgiving

Our family has two Thanksgivings.  On Thursday, Julie works at the hospital so she can be off at Christmas with the Adorables.  This gives everyone a chance to have Thanksgiving dinner with the other side of their various families.  This year my sister and her friend are coming for a non-Thanksgiving dinner of roast beef, fresh creamed corn, butternut squash soup, and asparagus.  Jordan may drop by with the children after he has visited his dad's family dinner (but I doubt they will sample the asparagus!).

Our second Thanksgiving is on Saturday, when we will all go to my sister's house and enjoy the larger family there.  There is a tractor show and auction nearby, and while the men are cavorting there, the women play catch-up at my sister's house and get the table ready for mid-day dining.  This year, Billy is not able to prepare the huge meal he normally slaves over, and we are all bringing a dish or two.  I look forward to seeing what shows up!

How nice it is to be twice reminded of the blessings of family and food.  Life is good.

Wednesday's Child Grows Older

Mondays child is fair of face,

Tuesdays child is full of grace,

Wednesdays child is full of woe,

Thursdays child has far to go,

Fridays child is loving and giving,

Saturdays child works hard for his living,

And the child that is born on the Sabbath day

Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

Yes, I did a bit of sleuthing and found out that I was born on Wednesday.  Up until now, I was never sure.  But with evidence in hand, I am blaming my Wednesday birth date for the computer failing, the heat going out in the studio, and a miscellany of little things that annoy me.

Alas!  Alack!  Woe is me!!!

Enough.

Demise of the I-mac

RIP faithful friend.  The I-mac is down.  Jordan will try to resuscitate it tomorrow evening, but Charles reported in such vivid detail the death throes that I have dim hopes of a recovery.  The new wrinkle is how to get things hooked into this little notebook, such as the camera download, so life can continue along.

I thought it would be enough to simply recover from surgery.  How silly— women are supposed to be the consummate multi-taskers, and "simple recovery" doesn't qualify in its present stand-alone form.

*Sigh*

Third Week Begins

What a day yesterday was— the jewel in the crown being a care package that arrived from Anne.  In it was a selection of dyed cottons, wool, cotton velveteen, a skein of thread, and some vintage French sequins.  They are all in my bright spring-like palette of blues, greens, and pinks.  After the past week of stitching with autumn colors, this is a breath of fresh air.

Thank you, Anne!  Even if the rain continues today, it will be brightly spring-ish here in my corner!

A Woman With A Plan

This might all be the result of something as simple as sleep, that I have slept well for three nights now, and I can think clearly—or, what passes for "clear" with me.  Or, maybe I'm not really very good at being sick and my crabby genes have gotten out of hand.  But for whatever reason, I got up this morning with a plan.  And a woman with a plan is hard to defeat.

First, in an effort to find the perfect place to sit peacefully and recover from surgery, I have sat on every chair in this house except one low one, and none are even vaguely comfortable after five minutes.  So there will be little sitting today. Yesterday my sister came and switched out the front legs of the walker for wheels, and of course you know how empowered anyone is with a set of wheels.

Re-establishing the kitchen is a slow bit of work because the glasses and dishes and cookware that were in the upper cabinets must all be pulled down and washed and the bits of sawdust cleaned from the shelves.  Charles has been kind enough to take that on.  Which leads to Part Two of the plan: Studio Time.

Of course, it is as cold as a Warlock's Wookie out there and my blood count is so low I wear two pairs of pajamas and wooly socks and a long robe and wrap in blankets and still shiver in what Charles thinks of as an overheated house . . . but once I make it across the courtyard and down the little bit of walkway, I should be at the studio door and hoping to negotiate that single step without mishap.  [Addendum to plan: wear heavy outdoor clothing, in case you need to call 911 for assistance.]

Third part is the studio itself— the creative spots, the boxes and drawers and stacks of materials on tables, the sketchbooks on their shelves . . . and those wonderful, energy-saving rolling chairs!  I will fill a tote with things to do that are not messy.  Well, maybe a little mess is allowed.  Instead of staying there and working, though, I will bring my work with me into the house.  Jill was right when she said that she can plan best when she's away from her studio.  I think there are too many interesting things in a studio that can distract from process and method . . .

Fourth part is the trip back, maybe with a tote-bearing husband in tow, and finally settling down somewhere in the house with hot tea and my playthings.  If I am absorbed in something interesting, these chairs might not be so uncomfortable.

Now, how's THAT for a plan?