Arts and Crafts

Okay, I'm in need of some artistic vibe from all you artists out there...I have a craft project to do today (and I admit the thought strikes fear into my heart).  You see,  I was the little girl whose art papers were always covered with globs of glue in mistaken places, and funny mishapen objects that looked nothing whatsoever like the thing they were meant to represent.   My few attempts at sewing have been exercises in futility (except for that time I worked on a quilt...that turned out pretty well).

Anyway, today's project requires some paper craft.  Here's the story...

My friend Pat and I are attending a bridal shower for a former student.  Our gift (which will be a combined wedding and shower gift) is a quilt, being made specially for her by the mother of another one of her classmates.  HOWEVER, the quilt isn't done yet, so my task is to make "something artistic" - my friend's words- to convey that the gift is in process.

My thought is to make a card of some kind, perhaps with a patchwork-y design, and use some of those nifty little things you can stick on.   Then inside I can write (oh, yes! something I can do!) about the special gift she will receive on her wedding day.

So before I go to Michael's and stand perplexed in front of all the cards/stamps/stickers, etc., I'm placing myself at the mercy of all you artistic gurus out there...

Send good thoughts my way, won't you?~*smiles*~

The Other Side of the Door

"How did you get that?" I asked my husband, placing my fingertip on a nasty looking bruise on his chest. "I'm not sure," he replied, giving me a meaningful smirk, "but I think I might have run into a cupboard door- you know, one that somebody left open."

It's one of those standing jokes in our house, my problem with closing things.  Doors, drawers, bottle tops - I admit it, I have a very bad habit of leaving them ajar.  We all started talking about it the other night when my daughter in law mentioned how careful my son always was to close things gently and tightly.

"Hah!" I said, pointing at my husband.  "He gets THAT from you!"  Nobody disputed my point.

So then, as is my wont, I started thinking about how that tendency of mine, that inability to close things, how that might relate to my life in general.

Well, I'm sure you see it, especially if you've read this post. 

Closing doors tightly behind you...it eliminates too many options, doesn't it?  After all, if I close up and lock the back door every time the dogs go in or out, I'd be doing that all day.  If I close every cupboard after I get something out of it, why, I'll just be opening it again in a few seconds to get something else.  Why make re-entry so difficult? 

But contrary to long standing habit, I just closed a door - a symbolic one, but a large and ponderous one nevertheless. 

Yes, I did it today.  All my quitting is done. I've told everyone who needs to be told, I've explained simply and with love and honesty my reasons for needing to move on.  I stood firm amidst the expected dismay and sadness and attempts to change my mind.

And I must tell you, I feel only relief, a sense of lightness and freedom such as I haven't felt in a long time.

As well as a sense of excitement, because you know what they say about doors...

When one closes - another one opens.

And I can't wait to see what's behind it.

Thanks for Listening

I knew you'd come through, and you did.  Thank you for the wise, funny, supportive comments on my last (rambling) post.  I responded to each of you in the comments on that post (I wish I had time to do that on every post, for the converations could go on and on...)

You are such good listeners.  You've helped me reinforce what I already knew in my heart, and I thank you from the bottom of it :) 

And, to continue in this attitude of gratitude...I was gifted with two awards this week:

 

  from Deirdre

AND...

 

 from Beatriz

Who better to pass these along to than all of my excellent friends who were there when I felt like talking...

Anno, Star, Beatriz, June, Bella, and Sherry, Rebecca, Barbara, Bella Rum, Tammy...and to anyone else to comes along with a listening ear and two cents to throw into the pot :) 

You guys are the greatest!!!

Feel Like Talking?

Rats.  I feel like talking, but there's no one to talk to. I tried calling my mom first - she's usually my first call when I feel like chatting, or when I need someone to take my mind off things that are bothering me.

But her phone's been busy for the past 30 minutes.

So I tried my friend Pat, who left me a message on my answering machine at home, saying she was thinking about me and just wanted to say hi.

But she wasn't home.

Then I tried my friend Millie, my BFF as the kids would say.  Although I was a bit reluctant to talk to her because I'm going to have to give her an answer (soon) about whether I'm willing to return to Classical Bells next year  (which is actually one of the things I'm looking to be distracted from).

Anyway, she wasn't home either.

So I guess I'll talk to you.

You know who you are - my wise, wonderful blogging friends...Star, and Bella (both Bella's), and Sherry, and June, and Deirdre, and Imelda, and Tammy, and Tara, and Anno, and ...well, the list goes on and on.

At least one of you has to be out there to listen :)

So the past month or so has been a little crazy for me - some upheaval in my finances, some worries about my children, some decisions to make about my plans for the future.  Some of that is starting to settle down - the refinancing is over and done with, the kids are home safe and sound -and now I have to concentrate on me for a bit,  try and decide what shape I want the next year or two to take.

You know I've been mulling over this idea of a "me" year - actually a retreat of sorts, where I could spend my free time focused on writing or even on some new activity that might spark my interest.  For the last decade, music has been my alter ego.  Seriously, I almost feel as if I have this other identity - an action figure type character who peels off her sweats and tennies, pulls on her concert dress blacks and hurls herself onto the stage to create musical magic.

It's a rush, it really is. 

But it's also a lot of hard work to get there.  You all know I'm a perfectionist, which means I beat my brains out over every piece to make sure it's perfect, to make sure no matter what goes on around me during the performance, that I will have my part down cold.

Part of me says, give yourself a rest from that. 

But...and you knew that was coming didn't you?  But, what if I get bored? What if I sink back into that person I was 15 years ago, who hung around the house all the time, who didn't have any social life, who was rather introverted and one dimensional and (dare I say) boring?

Because it's really easy to stop striving, to pull back on the reins so far that you're just loping along through life, especially if you have nothing providing that little kick in the butt to spur you forward.  

Sure, I enjoy days like yesterday and today, days when I've nothing more pressing than writing a post for Sunday Scribblings, or doing some laundry, or making dinner.  But would I want a whole year of those days? Won't I need more focus than that to keep me from sinking into old-ladyhood?

You know, going out into the wide world was never much encouraged in my family.  I don't come from a long line of ambitious over-achievers.  Slow, steady, and above all, safe were the buzz words during my upbringing.  So it's really easy for me to lay back and lay low, because that's what my family would rather have me do.  And sometimes, even at my advanced age, it's hard to go against the grain of those kinds of expectations.

I guess I need to think a little more about who I am, apart from the expectations of anyone else, and think about the things that make me the happiest even if they sometimes aren't easily accomplished.

Gee, I'm glad we talked.

Quitting

I have some quitting to do. I know I told you I was done with my gig at the high school - and I am, I'm not reneging on that - it's just that I haven't made it official yet.

In other words, I haven't quit.

I hate qutting.  I even hate the sound of the word.  It's a hard, spitting, hateful word. 

It's like no - another word I hate.

For me,  both words are associated with the end of somthing, and I'm much fonder of beginnings than of endings.  (That's why I have half a dozen stories started in my creative writing folder and not one of them finished!)

I haven't told anyone I was quitting partly because I didn't want any end of the year hoopla about my leaving, and partly because I didn't want to spoil any of the final concerts. 

But mostly because I'm a chicken.  That word tends to stick in my throat.

But I have to say to my friend Don (the new director at the high school)  - "I'm really sorry, Donny, but I can't come back next year.  It's time for me to move on." 

Hey, there's the sound of a beginning in there after all.  "Moving on" implies moving forward to something new and different, perhaps something even better.  After all, I've hung around doing this job far longer than I ever intended, mostly as a favor to my friends, and now I'm going to think about what's good for me. 

Who knows what this moving on process will get me into.  But I'm going to quit being a coward about this and make my departure official so I can get on with the next phase of my musical life.