the mid-week stroll

 

I have never let the holidays make me scramble. If the spirit moves me, maybe. Not forcing stuff - stitching, writing, decorating - is The Way, for me.  If it mattered more, I'd set up the Festivus pole. 

I think part of this contrarian attitude comes from spending my whole adult working life in jobs where I almost always had to work on the holidays. All of them, because if I had to spend 40 hours a week away from my family, at least I would get double time for one or two of those days. 

At least this year I can say, I've gotten all the gift getting stuff out of the way. There will be no last-minute dashes to any big box emporium of bad behavior. 

Thank you Liz for reminding me that I have always been a writer. Everyone is poking around in the web's closets lately. It makes me wistful

Treated myself to fresh bedding over the weekend and these two pillows are fully utilitarian now. Feathers inside, they punch up beautifully and I can get lost in marvelling at my own handiwork. I can remember the acute discipline of my"every stitch matters" mantra. And backing out the crappy ones that happened when my mind wandered. There are no rough drafts when you stitch text.

For lack of anything else to hold on to, I thought about making another sampler, but no burning words of wisdom came to mind, so, there's no forcing this either.

I love watching "firsts". He's getting pretty adventurous, foodwise. We still crack jokes about okra being the gateway to food hell. 

When all else fails, be useful. I packed the entire contents of the scrap basket into ready-to-ship bundles.  Now I can't be snatching bits out and sneaking them into the River Basket. 

The next post office run is Friday.