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?