I took out one cubbie of fabric tonight looking to see what might strike me and if I could get rid of anything. Did make a small pile of “had this too long and why?” and enjoyed some of the finds. Also lined up these three little pieces which are normally clipped to different parts of the wall and enjoyed them side by side. The one at the left is about eight inches square.
This, it strikes me, often happens this time of year. Even though I’m not watching the World Series, I know that I have sorted and stacked the stash other years while watching the end of the baseball season. Right now the ironing board is covered with stacks of folded fabric waiting to go back into the right cubbies and then what shall I do with all that miscellaneous non-cotton-quilty sort of fabric? No idea.
Among other things found tonight:
long ago clipped to the front of the cubbies and worth remembering.
This morning I was on the steps, ready to head out when I realized I didn’t really know where I’d want to go. Fabric shopping? Art hopping? Given that indecision it seemed a little silly to head out so I started the car up just to make sure it would and then I went back in the house and made a pot of coffee.
After fortifying myself thusly, I went upstairs and put all the strips and squares into some semblance of order. I had to take some junk out of one sliding drawer because heck, I needed that room for fabric! And truth be told, I could use another couple shallow drawers for that unit and I’m quite sure I could put more stuff into another one – art supplies and such things if I had one. This is similar to what I have but I’m sure that mine came without the drawers. If you do something similar stay away from the plastic drawers – they don’t stay in the frame runners as well as the metal wire ones.
Out came stuff that I’d been “collecting” and in went more strips and squares.
While I was reading a bit this morning and duking it out with the cats for covers, I took these photos of Archie and Razzie.
I found lots of stuff pointing to an observance of #artmatters today and a remembrance of Robert Genn by his daughter. Today’s letter included this quote
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. — T.S. Eliot
Then I re-read the letter from May, when Robert Genn had died which included this:
We live our short spans in the vortex of a miracle, and while we may not be the center of that vortex, it is magic to be anywhere in there. — Robert Genn
And wandering about a little longer, I found this and then I got up for the day:
First of three days off, I got up this morning to get a new supply of cat food going for the critters. Key into car, turn, nothing… And again… nothing… Jump start via AAA does nothing so off it goes on a tow truck.
As I said to the guy, turns out today is the first day in quite awhile where I had a serious plan of doing something and now… no car. He was hopeful it was a starter problem and easily resolved.
The day passes and no car. Turns into one of the on-board computers. Turns out that while the repair place can get the part, only the dealer can program it and they recommend just taking it there. Jolly.
So I call Mom, who had been on standby part of the day to lend me a car. How would you like to go to Vermont to a poetry reading? She didn’t miss a beat – sure! So she headed out to my house. Pretty uneventful trip. Had our traditional get-lost moment. Had to stop and ask finally and the customer who helped me with directions must have been a contra dancer at some point because she quite confidently told me to go three-quarters of the way around the rotary. Finding a tiny school in a black rainy knot of housing wasn’t easy but we succeeded, only missing the first couple minutes. The place was very full!
Billy Collins was just great. He is funny and educating and tuned to his audience. I like his poems, because of his eye and his humor. His plain language reminds me at times of Frost and his topics are just as wide-ranging.
I liked one of his comments, as he had caught himself saying how many lines each poem was before he started reading. Some one asked him later about it during the question period and he laughingly allowed that he likes to prepare people for when the end is coming. He went on to say that the writer does want to get people to the end of the poem so there should be something there worth getting to. He described some of the roadblocks that make him give up on reading a poem, so you know that it’s good thing if you get him to the end!
To illustrate this idea (already well illustrated by several previously read poems) he read a poem that turned unexpected to be an elegy to his father, The Death of The Hat.
I didn’t stay to get my book signed but Mom and I found a nice little place in Manchester Center to have a bite to eat and then we headed home, full of words, our own and Billy Collins’s. Thanks Northshire Books for a great opportunity to hear him in person!
A bit of fragrance always clings to the hand that gives roses.
