I have been struggling lately to come up with blog topics. Normally verbose, it's really wierd when I can't think of anything to talk about. Normally, I'm just full of words.
Maybe it's the time of year. The clouds are so low and the weather so ready to change, but it's still hot in Texas and there's just no freaking rain. It's like Mother Nature forgot we're here. I drove past Austin's last General Store yesterday and the sign out front said "Raindancers needed. Apply within."
With the holidays coming along, secrets are the thing of the day. And, with so many friends and family following my blog, I just can't talk about it. Can't share what I'm making. Can't share what I'm thinking. Can't share what I'm feeling. That sucks. The blog is supposed to be about me, right?
Last week, I was dealing with a bit of depression. Don't know where that comes from, but it sneaks out of the woodwork like sugar ants and before I know it, it's taken over and I just can't shake it. And, then it passes and I wonder why I've been in such a dark mood for several days.
And, what's better for dark moods than chocolate. Except that I climbed on the scale this morning and was shocked and appalled. Oh, yeah. Scales are bad for depression. It's like depression is climbing in a hole. Getting on the scale was like starting to pull the dirt in around me. So, no more scales this season. That's my first holiday gift to me.
Now, logically, I know that when I'm exercising and gaining weight, mostly it's muscle. But, try telling that to your naked self on the scale in the morning. Yeah, right. Muscle mass. Bend over so you can see if your knees and ankles are still there.
In fact, seems that the only thing I want to do or talk about is sewing. Sewing is peace. Sewing is self fulfillment. Sewing is doing something I'm good at and then being able to look at what I've done and feel good. Sewing is self indulgence. But, if I don't work, I won't be able to sew.
Work is not fulfilling. Work is crazy and unhappy and a burden. I used to have a fun job. That's why I was willing to do it for so long. But, it's been a year of promising myself that my fun job is still hiding somewhere and a year of being disappointed that I can't find it. I'm afraid that all the fun in my job has crawled in a hole and died.
Speaking of promises to myself, I'm going to try something. I hate cutting scraps to use in my scrap user's system. Scraps from quilting are okay. They're usually straight lines, just wierd sizes. But, scraps from clothes, that's another matter. Wonky, curvy, odd sizes, hard to figure out what I can get out of a scrap to optimize what I have. I hate cutting them up so bad that I have a large popcorn tin full of scraps that need to be cut. So, my goal is to cut for 15 minutes every day. Just 15 minutes. Until it's all done. I'm two days in and haven't made a dent yet.
You're thinking that maybe I should set my goals a bit higher, aren't you?
Well, you try doing something for 15 minutes every day. EVERY day.
Okay, in all honesty, I won't be able to do it EVERY day. But, I'm going to give it the old college try. After all, who knows what's in that tin that I can use in the upcoming Bonnie Hunter mystery. Or, what's in there that would fill out a Linus quilt. Not that my bins are short on scraps. If all my uncut fabric were suddenly stolen by fabric thieves or silverfish, I'd still have enough scraps to keep me busy for a couple of years.
But, that tin of fabric weighs on my mind. After all, why not pick something totally innocuous to worry about, right? And, right now, I can use some things to worry about that are insignificant. I mean, have you heard the news lately? I'd much rather worry about what's in that tin.
So, that's what I say when I can't think of anything to talk about. Just a stream of consciousness, freely flowing. Hope you are all bright and cheerful and that birds are chirping on your shoulder and helping with your housework.
Take care and have a great Tuesday. Lane