Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Working . . .

I sat down yesterday and took on a job I’ve been avoiding for a long time: winding floss on cardboard bobbins and putting them in order in a box I inherited from a friend. I don’t know why I have avoided the task – it’s so much easier to find the color called for by a cross stitch pattern if you have them in number order, plus you don’t find yourself with three, or four, or even five skeins of DMC 793 (a nice but unmemorable medium blue) because you can’t remember what you already have. I didn’t get all of them done, but I made a nice start, and already I feel virtuous.

And I finished the cross-stitch fox. I tried doing some highlighting, but it just wasn’t working, so I’ll let it be. He looks greedy and ambitious, and that’s all I need. Only two or three more pieces – and another one is nearly finished – and I can send the box of stiching and fabric to the woman who is going to turn all that stuff into a quilt.

Maybe it’s the new place. Maybe it’s because it’s compact. Whatever, I feel competent. I sometimes felt overwhelmed at the sheer size of the old townhouse. Knowing I couldn’t get ahead of simple maintenance made just staying even a depressing task. This place is smaller, and much easier. The kitchen floor is very small, I can mop it in two minutes, max. No stairs here – we had a special, hand-held vacuum for the stairs in the old place, and there were a lot of stairs. My arthritic knees hated stairs. I can keep up with things here, then sit down to work on my novel without that little nag at the back of my head reminding me of all that was left undone.

And by the way, I recommend Roomba, the robot vacuum. Listening to it murmur to itself as it cleans the carpet, and thump as it comes up against a wall or the leg of a table, then the change of note as it turns to go another way, means I’m not out there pushing the old Hoover. When it’s done, it even goes looking for its base and recharges itself. I think my heroine, Betsy, needs a Roomba. She can harken to its sound while she does the books or cooks supper.

But we’re still not moved all the way in. I hung a shower curtain in the second bath yesterday, but I need more towel racks, and to get my art hung on the walls of the living room and my office. And to find a place for the rest of my hats.

But soon I’ll have the time to get caught up with RCTN and the ANG list. I miss the chatter and helpful hints. And today is the first meeting of stitchers here at Aquila Commons! I put out a notice asking anyone interested to come to the Craft Room at 1 pm to sit, talk, and stitch. I expect maybe three of us – but that’s enough for a conversation. One of them knows how to crochet, so I expect to get serious about learning that craft pretty soon. And others may come later. Meanwhile, if I can force myself to spend even just one hour a week doing stitching among stitchers I’ll be making progress instead of just marking time.


Deb Baker said...

Glad to see you're adjusting to your new place. I still have things in boxes from our last move - 16 years ago. Guess I should dump the contents since it's apparent I don't need it. I'm going to look into one of those cool robots.

BettyC said...

Get the Scooba! More than vacuuming, I despise cleaning the kitchen and bathroom floors. I start Scooba when we leave the house so I don't have to worry about people walking on the damp floors. Plus the cleaning solution leaves a nice, fresh smell behind.

Joanna Campbell Slan said...


Will you share a picture of your fox?


Monica Ferris said...

I'll try to get a picture of the fox up later today. He doesn't have a tail; the instructions called for running the tail outside the roundel he was stitched on, so I'm going to run it onto the border of the quilt. He looks odd without a tail.

Does the Scooba get into corners? And around the toilet? If it does, it sounds perfect!

Deb, you're right about throwing away boxes you don't unpack. I think I'm going to do that. If, in a few weeks, the boxes remain in a corner - and I haven't walked around exclaiming, "Where the devil did I put that thing?" - then out it goes.

Does anyone know why my Google account keeps making me change my password? And when I do it tells me it's wrong and makes me redo it?