Monday, November 20, 2017

Patchwork Quilt

After too long of an absence a day arrived to restore my faith in myself.  Due to a particularly long day at work on Sunday, the voices in my head took advantage of weeks of fatigue and found an audience.  Over supper at eleven o'clock at night, I dreamt of moving to Norway, parking myself in an armchair in a coastal cottage and watching the icebergs float by all day, every day.

With two of my three bunk mates already in REM sleep, I join them to hatch my escape.  The gods realizing that if they didn't stop toying with me, I'd quit playing the game, aligned the stars for me overnight.  
#1 Prayer answered on my Monday, Blessed Day Off:  the furry alarm clock Dax doesn't go off at the usual 4:45.  We slumber until 7:30.  That's debauchery right there.

I'm greeted in my kitchen by the flowers saved from last night's hard frost.

The dogs and I drive out to the Boonies to let the Great Gazoo burn off some wildness.

Meanwhile, I collect my daily quota of sticks.  
Back at home, I attack my jumbo chores list for the day with the same kind of joy reserved for drinking a gallon of cod liver oil.

For half the day, my only glee is the rush back to my desk to cross off a completed task.  Then it dawns on me that litany of chores may actually be doable in one day.  Bring on the challenge (and stay out of my way because I'm still Godzilla cranky).
I pull all my paint cans out and start going through each color of the interior and exterior of the house, touching up all dings, partly courtesy a 5'7" Cyclops who has no depth perception when carrying boxes; and the slightly denuded cabinet corners, courtesy of Chompers.

In between paint brushes, accounting work, yard work and house cleaning keep the chores from being monotonous.
To crown the day, I complete an overdue project on the ox barn.  To preface, I finally finished the trim and final wall painting last week, with help from my official paint taste tester.

My other shadow had planted himself for hours, supervising me (ladders and I don't get along anymore).  The job went on past dark, necessitating him a blanket and me a head lantern.

The final wall was to be my canvas for my version of a protective talisman.

19th century Pennsylvania German farmers painted hex signs on their barns to ward off evil spirits.  
After the dozen or more gremlins haunting me this past year, I'll try anything.
I settle on my favorite quilt block pattern and get to work, measuring, taping and applying one color every two hours.

Until:

Between my hex sign and my guardian bovine, I think we have 2018 in the bag.

How can everything in the world not be right when this is your view from your kitchen?

And your house is clean, freshly painted and two pies fresh out of the oven?

My batteries are at 60% charge, today was the best medicine.  As soon as I snuggle up to this I should be back at 100% by Tuesday, 4:45 AM!

Sometimes the quilt pieces all come together and it's magic.

3 comments:

  1. Glad you found your magic again. I've heard it's inside each of us, just looking for a way to get out. I think yours exploded in joy! Happy Thanksgiving, even if you ARE a Canadian.

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  2. HAPPY THANKSGIVING JAMIE AND ALL FOUR LEGGED RULERS OF THE FARM��SEE YOU TOMORROW.

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