Oh, man! Know the feeling of this loooong list of things you have to do and too little time? That’s the kind of day this is.
And it doesn’t make anything better to find out that the really important point you spent so long time on has a deadline in … August.
But never mind, on to the next job on the list which to some extent was battling Google. In other words a lost cause. I was trying to get a copy of a saved scan into a document and could not see how. Thankfully my daughter had a simple suggestion, just use the “insert”, and it worked. I called her a genius, got another glass of water and set to work all happy. Only to find out that of all the 10 scans only one – 1! – was any good. The others were upside down or not complete.
In little more than half an hour I have to get to work. This is my newly upgraded website, and it still looks awful.
Strange how a day that in some respects seems long because of frustrations turns out to be far from long enough.
I’m not sure how much it reveals about me that I – often as not – think of titles of songs or movies when writing a title for a new post. This time it’s 10 CC.
The thing I currently do for love is basting. Usually when I sew my box of pins is all I need. To me basting is just a way to waste time sewing seams twice. Yet now I do precious little but baste.
The reason is the bedspread that popped up in two posts already. But hey – since I hand-sew my patchwork I have to baste them into correct size first. Which takes time because there are 468 of them.
Bringing me back to things we do for love: It’s for my darling Mum. She deserves all the love I pour into the work.
Do you know the feeling? You found all your patchwork material, spread it over half the living room and cut piece after piece for a specific project.
Then the minute you sigh and begin to re-fold everything to put it away you think of other patterns. Leave the mess, take up pencil and paper – in my case a standard checkered pad – and begin to draw. Come up with brilliant ideas. Or remember old and equally brilliant ideas not yet put into colours and cloth.
Lean back with sketches on the pad, smile to yourself and fetch the thick paper used for clich´s and begin to cut those. And then finally go on to cut the material for those patterns.
That’s what I did this past week. Well, not all of it, some of it. And now that I finally put all the material away to stop myself getting further ideas I have not only the 468 pieces for my Mum’s bedspread but also 2X5 for two canters, 15 pieces for one experimental pattern, 11 pieces for another experiment and finally 177 pieces for a square pattern. Because I stopped myself before I began to cut a hexagon cliche’e which would have meant countless other pieces.
Oh and did I mention I always hand-sew? Seems I have my work cut out for me very literally.
I work three different part time jobs. All of them more or less invisible in one way or another. One is as a DPPA with a blind couple with a toddler. I do the things that require visuals for them, sort laundry, pair socks, clean, tidy and first and foremost keep an eye on the toddler to make sure there are limits to how much trouble he makes.
Another is delivering local papers and ads. Few people see me doing it, I know none of my colleagues.
And the third is taking out disabled and / or mentally handicapped people. And I mean taking them out: One needs airing, because she’s otherwise stuck in a wheelchair and lost speech. Another is also in a chair and needs me to take care of errands and airing out.
The last three are mentally handicapped. And need special attention from me to catch what they’re saying. In the case of the one I took to a concert yesterday what he mumbles or signals. He’s awfully discreet, prompting me by touch to say he was thirsty.
So this week’s craft is communication. If nothing else I learn all the time how diverse it is.