The neat freaks among you must cringe at the cluttered and crowded pictures I show of my sewing studio. It’s all part of the cluttered mind. It doesn’t bother me in the least. (well, if it gets bad enough, I’ll be bothered, but it has to get real bad first.)
So, in fear that you might not read this post, I’ve lured you in with this cute little vignette on the studio wall.
This shelf always hung on my Grandparent’s front porch. It had their spare front door key and some little figurines on it. Just another thing that needed to be dusted on a screened in porch, but I remember, when I was tall enough, being allowed to reach up and take down the old fashioned long key and turn the big, black lock that opened the front door to the sweetest place on earth.
Okay now, so after that brief pause to catch my breath from a memory I didn’t know I was calling up, we can proceed to pictures that would have killed either of my Grandparents, in whose home dust was not allowed to settle. Ever.
Lemon oil and an old fashioned canister vacuum and waxed wood that felt slippery and soft.
Anyway, I digress again as a delaying tactic.
Left side: fabric and patterns, heavy coats, notions; all accessible. All neatly organized. And, the best part is I can see it. I can see where it is and will be able to find it again. That is a wonderful feeling. And, I opened up about 10 feet of shelf so I can start to spread out a little bit now. Unfortunately, that shelf didn’t come available until the end of the cleaning.
This is the right side.
UFO’s and kits and about 15 years of back issues of QNM. More fabric. And, sewing machines. I won’t tell you how many. It doesn’t matter.
Now, if I could just get through this.
That is a store bought quilt from the 80’s that either needs to be repaired or retired and the rest is scraps that need to be sorted by size and color. And, I just can’t stop sewing long enough to sit down and do it. I’ve already done a pile this big, and at the half way point, I just flagged and couldn’t keep on. Sorting scraps is something I have to be in the right mood for. It’s not exciting.
Last night, after dinner and dishes, Syd sang for us again. She started out small, singing through her nose. But, about half way through, she found her voice…and it was beautiful. So, she sang it again. And again, beautiful. She said she started out panicked, but then it just went away. And, we heaped on the praise. Lavishly!
Practice makes perfect.
Now, if we can just apply that to the practice ACT.