My cutting table & mega fabric storage thingy. Love having it all neat, tidy and compact!

A Once a Year Thing

I know--too long and so forgotten! Here I am again and what is new, you ask? Well more fabric....lol...but now it's organized and compact in it's own little place in the "Girl Cave". That's what the Mister calls it, but it's much too nice. It's not in the basement but in a sunny bedroom on the second floor. I have a great view of the river and the woods, although I kind of miss the neighbor's trampoline. You see they used to have one right on the property line between our houses, and their son would spend hours....and hours....jumping and flipping on that thing. At first it made me so nervous because he was out there by himself, and we all know how dangerous one of those things are. Or at least I was always told that. I do remember a boy in high school falling off the trampoline and having a severe injury that included paralysis, so maybe that's the story our mom's reminded us of when we wanted a turn. Anyway, I would watch him try to flip and land on the back of his bent up neck time and time again. Ugh! I held my breath so often because I had to watch to see if he got up each time...I don't think I got much done! But as the weeks/months went by, I came to admire that boy and his determination. Over and over again he would try. I could see he was trying different rhythms to his jumping before he would ball up his fists and throw himself head over heels. The first time I saw him flip completely around and land on his feet, I let out a cheer. I guess he heard because he stopped and kind of looked around. At some point I guess he noticed me watching and he would look up to see if I was clapping for him. I know he was probably wondering what that creepy old woman next door was doing watching him from the window. He didn't know my computer was open in front of me and I was working. But the local police never showed up to ask serious questions (thank goodness) so I guess it was sort of our secret. When the hurricane came through this past fall the trampoline was caught in the wind and twisted itself into a pretzel around the fence. So it's kind of sad to not hear that scretching sound the springs made as he bounced for hours as I wrote or sewed. So back to the point--it's not a girl cave because there is nothing cave like about it. I will think of a better name --maybe tomorrow.

Goodness almost another year has gone by...

Wow I guess I really am not good at this blogging thing! Has the money really made the difference? Meaning--I'm used to being paid for what I write, so the "doing it for the fun of it" maybe was not what this was about anyway. Anyway. Any way I can start over?

I do have a new love. I guess I should keep it quiet, the neighbors will talk you know. I have tried to hide it but my eyes light up when I see it. I have to touch, hold, possess! You'd think I would be satisfied with two or three but no....I have to have, well, HUNDREDS. I'm insatiable! There are probably self help books out there for people like me, hungry for more, more. I will try to stay away but I just can't do it. Then I think, "Just one quick look" but I lose control and have to have it now. I don't care who is looking. I keep them in the car, hoping I can get them in without, well you know who, seeing I've brought them here. Once he is asleep, I practically dance to the car to bring them in. "Oh I have such plans for you!" I tell them. Gleeful and excited--who could sleep now?--I think of all the ways I will have them. All the ways I can make them my own. All the ways they will satisfy the desires of my heart. And once I have decided--once I have crafted and dreamed and considered--I take the blade to them. Because I must cut them deeply to make them mine. They must be marked and changed and deconstructed so I can recreate them into what I need. I can stitch and not leave much of a scar. Sometimes you can't even tell it's been altered by my blade because the cut was perfect. The hours I spend in re-creation of my masterpiece--cut and stitch and fit and bind. I make it new. I have made it my own. The fabric has yielded to my dreams--the perfect quilt at last.

Unprepared

Missing the boat was never an option. I prepared, planned (a, b and the I-hope-it-never -comes-to-this c, d and e) and was confident. So how could I have been a whole day off? Who took Thursday off the calendar? All the days added up, marching in line, one, two, three. I promised I'd be there, but how could I know the entire time/space continuum would be jiggled enough to drop an entire 24 hours from my life? Surely you can understand the dilemma. You would be asking the same questions I am. But who is able to field such a question? They'd lock you up. Crazy girl who loses a whole day! Who has heard of such a thing? Or say you were on a binge. The recycling guy who came on Wednesday could testify to an empty...or two...in the bin in front of my house. I could deny they were mine; after all anyone could drop an empty or two as they walked past. Would they check for prints? Or maybe they would guess you slept 24 hours straight. Did you wake up really hungry? What evidence would be left behind? Claiming alien abduction brings us back around to the crazy girl argument. So what other excuse is there. It's Friday. Thursday never happened. I guess I missed the boat.

Hi

Hi and welcome to my world. I have been a writer many, many years and have never really felt compelled to blog. However, I want to exercise my writing and reach out into fiction so this seems like the best way to do that. So forgive me if I'm stiff or not quite as fluent or polished as I could be. These are my thoughts so if you disagree please start your own blog. Of course, your kind comments and constructive criticisms are welcome.

Let's see where this goes, shall we?