I'm Not Crazy....Just Alittle Unwell...
I sorted my scraps....by colour. There I said it. I admit it, I will own it the rest of my life, which is probly how long it will take to live it down.
I have an excuse.
It was the drugs....yep you heard it...drugs.
Has to be...what other excuse could a sane person use, (sanity is such an subjective topic isn't it!), to justify sitting for hours, carefully classifying each little hunk of fabric, and assigning it a home with others of it's sort. And we ain't talking meter cuts or anything likthat...scraps...honest ta Gawd scraps.
Had to be the drugs.
It all started in June. I managed to develope this life-threatening allergy. If you're gonna have an allergy, you might as well be serious about it eh...no half-assed allergies in this house...or outside this house as the case is. I am allergic to the sun. Not hard to avoid that in the summer is it!
Tried desperatlyto cope with it, wearing long sleeves (just as much fun as it sounds when it is a thousand degrees outside!), sun block, and doubling the amount of anti-histimine I ingested each morning...but to no avail. Despite my best efforts to limit my exposure...running from shade tree to shade tree and hearing in my sleep...that old familuar phraze...."Get outta the sun".....I could not seem to get it under control. Is it not sick enough that we Canadians are housebound enough,what with our oh so long frostbite inducing winters...now I was going to be housebound for the summer too. It couldn't be.
Enter the big guns!
The drugs.....steroids!
I was hesitant. My doctor summed it all up as only she could......"throat closes...kill ya quick...steroids...kill ya slowly"....and some how...that made me feel so much better taking them. So I sucked them back according to schedule, and waited for the mood swings to knock the first hapless victum outta the park.
But there were no mood swings..okay one little one, brought on by the stupid question, "What do you need a screwdriver for? ( I successfully fought the urge to say "What better to kill you with" and took deep breathes...many deep breathes). Instead....I got busy. I found myself awake at 4:00am, planning all the search and destroy missions I could do the next day...mind racing from one room to the other....and then I got up and did it.
I sorted my scraps by colour. There I said it again. That makes it more real.
Why in God's name would anyone sort their scraps. My intention for them, was to someday complete a quilt...totally made from scraps, chosen randomly...come what may style...no rules, no matching....no thought at all ...reach in the bucket...pull out whatever...and use it...then and there. Hard to be random when everything now sits so neat and orderly, a red bucket, a blue bucket, you name it...I got it.
Do you think if I took Anti-Steroids (is there such a thing?), I could undo the order in my world? I am missing the chaos.
Perhaps til then, a bottle of wine or three might suffice?
I sorted my scraps....by colour. There I said it. I admit it, I will own it the rest of my life, which is probly how long it will take to live it down.
I have an excuse.
It was the drugs....yep you heard it...drugs.
Has to be...what other excuse could a sane person use, (sanity is such an subjective topic isn't it!), to justify sitting for hours, carefully classifying each little hunk of fabric, and assigning it a home with others of it's sort. And we ain't talking meter cuts or anything likthat...scraps...honest ta Gawd scraps.
Had to be the drugs.
It all started in June. I managed to develope this life-threatening allergy. If you're gonna have an allergy, you might as well be serious about it eh...no half-assed allergies in this house...or outside this house as the case is. I am allergic to the sun. Not hard to avoid that in the summer is it!
Tried desperatlyto cope with it, wearing long sleeves (just as much fun as it sounds when it is a thousand degrees outside!), sun block, and doubling the amount of anti-histimine I ingested each morning...but to no avail. Despite my best efforts to limit my exposure...running from shade tree to shade tree and hearing in my sleep...that old familuar phraze...."Get outta the sun".....I could not seem to get it under control. Is it not sick enough that we Canadians are housebound enough,what with our oh so long frostbite inducing winters...now I was going to be housebound for the summer too. It couldn't be.
Enter the big guns!
The drugs.....steroids!
I was hesitant. My doctor summed it all up as only she could......"throat closes...kill ya quick...steroids...kill ya slowly"....and some how...that made me feel so much better taking them. So I sucked them back according to schedule, and waited for the mood swings to knock the first hapless victum outta the park.
But there were no mood swings..okay one little one, brought on by the stupid question, "What do you need a screwdriver for? ( I successfully fought the urge to say "What better to kill you with" and took deep breathes...many deep breathes). Instead....I got busy. I found myself awake at 4:00am, planning all the search and destroy missions I could do the next day...mind racing from one room to the other....and then I got up and did it.
I sorted my scraps by colour. There I said it again. That makes it more real.
Why in God's name would anyone sort their scraps. My intention for them, was to someday complete a quilt...totally made from scraps, chosen randomly...come what may style...no rules, no matching....no thought at all ...reach in the bucket...pull out whatever...and use it...then and there. Hard to be random when everything now sits so neat and orderly, a red bucket, a blue bucket, you name it...I got it.
Do you think if I took Anti-Steroids (is there such a thing?), I could undo the order in my world? I am missing the chaos.
Perhaps til then, a bottle of wine or three might suffice?
posted by Nad at 4:34 p.m.
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