Mayhem and Magic

Wednesday

I decided not to blog this summer while I wasn't working, and then decided to shut down the blog completely.  I just never got around to doing that.  You know how that goes. 

Then I kept thinking about all these things I wanted to blog about.  And now?  Since I'm actually trying to post something?  I cannot remember what it was that I so needed to blog before...

Here's something weird...  Kind of a get-to-know-you thing...

I don't really care to travel all that much.  Some people have such a passion for seeing the world and really discovering it for themselves.  Me?  Eh, I believe that the Sistine Chapel is there, I don't really need to see it.  I would enjoy eating in a bunch of different countries, but not enough to travel there. I'd also really like to see more sea-life-- maybe the Great Barrier Reef, or maybe some Caribbean spot.

Obviously I'm excited to go to South Africa again, but that's more because of the connection we have to South Africa through Sparkle. 

Maybe I just need some sort of travel inspiration?

I get why people are excited to travel, but for some reason I'd rather spend money on, say... oh, now I can't think of anything...  just having some pretty things in my house that I enjoy every day.  Like sheets!  We have one set of 400-thread-count sheets that were a gift and I love them!  I can't bring myself to spend money for more sheets when I already have sheets, but having one set of lovely sheets makes me happy.  Probably happier than seeing the Sistine Chapel.

How's that for meaningless?

My Own Project

I am not craft-y.  My mother and grandmother both sew wonderful things, but somehow I didn't get the decorator/crafter gene from them.  What a bummer.  Really, I wish I were the kind of person who could sit down and create beautiful, useful things.  However, I somehow managed to find peace with myself as a non-crafter.  (I'm kidding-- it was pretty easy to resign myself to a non-crafting lifestyle after a few disastrously failed projects.)

Then I married Beloved.  And I married into a family of crazy-passionate sewers/quilters/creators.  My mother-in-law has a quilting frame in her living room.  Both of my sisters-in-law sewed their own wedding dresses. 

Clearly, we were not going to bond over discussions of compelling literature or shared politics (pictures of George W. Bush on the refrigerator at one BILs house...  that's all I'm saying about that).  And that was fine!  But we needed something to talk about and do together, something time-consuming and benign.  So quilting was it!

(Aside: Oh my gosh, I have got to quit talking about Beloved's family!  I sound so snobbish when I talk about them!  Really, only a few of them are nuts, and they're a nice kind of nuts.  Gross, sometimes.  Odd, sometimes.  But generous toward me, and gracious, and they try really hard.  But, oh, how I wish I could tell you all the stories!)

I don't mind sewing and quilting.  I am happy to do it, actually.  It just isn't something that I would sit down and do myself when I have time to do whatever I want.  I generally need the company and encouragement of other people working on their own projects in order to do my own. 

But while on vacation last month, I went with my mom to a quilt shop.  And I got inspired.  I don't know how it happened.  There were fabrics.  And patterns.  I was overcome.

And now I have a project.  Perhaps I flatter myself, but I do think it's nicer than the UBP (Unfashionable Butt Purse).

It's this pattern, and these fabrics.  There are no fancy cuts, and all straight lines to sew.  Easy-peasy.

I cut the strips and laid them all out in blocks.  The blocks will move around, but I just wanted to get groups of four strips organized so I won't end up with all one fabric or color in any of the blocks. 

Once they were all laid out, there suddenly seemed to be a lot of red.  You can tell I'm a novice because the name of the group of fabrics is "Peace on Earth," but I thought there was enough blue and yellow to keep it from looking too Christmas-y.  There are quite a few leftover strips, so I went through and took out all the red strips and replaced them with brown, blue or yellow strips.  Then I split up the reds and put half of them back in. 

It's now been laying on my floor for a week.  I keep walking by and stopping for a second to move strips around, or look at it in a different light and think, "Oh, it's totally a Christmas quilt!" or "Gee, I think I should take more red out"  or "Maybe I should put more red back in." 

You see why I need other people present to accomplish anything?  What do you think about the colors?  Christmas?  Or all-season?  (Susan?)

(These pictures, by the way, are with all of the red strips in.)

Late on the Weight Thing

Yesterday I read some of the posts and comments swirling around MIM and So Close.

The "false advertising" concept is sad.  And I was surprised by how the idea of weighing less is automatically associated with being more healthy.

I've been thinking about weight/health stuff, because I recently lost about 15 pounds.  I was never obese, and I realize I have nothing to complain about, really.  No thyroid problems, disease, or (gasp!) depression (because obviously people who are overweight are depressed and don't respect themselves). 

I lost weight by skipping breakfast (except for fat free coffee creamer), snacking more on salty food instead of sweet food, and buying Lean Cuisine frozen meals so I didn't have to think about calorie counting or portion control.  For a while, I was eating 2-3 bags of fat-free microwave popcorn a day, just to put something in my mouth.  I didn't exercise. 

(I used to run!  The last time I went running was the morning we left for South Africa.  After that I didn't sleep through the night for almost 2 years, and couldn't bear to leave my precious bed one second before I had to.  I ran because I felt like I had to, not because I enjoyed the running itself.  It was satisfying to think to myself, "I ran 5 miles this morning!  Hey, I am so tough!"  But not satisfying enough to go through the work of getting in shape again.) 

So now I weigh 15 pounds less, and I fit into my clothes again.  But I have no illusions that I have actually made myself healthier.  (I mean, really, 2-3 bags of fat-free microwave popcorn every day!  How healthy could that possibly be?)

(Beloved, by the way, was fabulous.  When I told him I was going to try to lose some weight he very appropriately responded, "Really?  Why?" and then was totally supportive and encouraging in a not-judging-or-critical way.)

My favorite response was this one, from Sweet Juniper:

"Love has a way of eclipsing superficial concerns.

Look at your spouse or your lover tonight, hold them tight, and think about your future together. Remember that death is inevitable, and that you are going to lose that person one day, or he or she will lose you. You cannot change that. Remember that if you are lucky, you will live to see your spouse put on a few pounds, grow wrinkles, grow bald and liverspotted and grumpy. If you are lucky you will see your children find love in someone else, and then see you and your spouse and a whole host of strangers live on in the children that grow physically from that love. You will see youth again in them, you will remember all the good times you had in yours. If you are lucky you will grow old and change in a million different ways with the person you've chosen to live your life with. Not everyone reading this will be so lucky. Among you there will be car accidents, lives snatched away without a moment to say goodbye. There will be hands to hold in hospital beds. There will be chemotherapy. There will be pain.

But again, if you are lucky it will come in the depth of the winter of your lives, though an invincible summer will burn inside you still, a love that a few extra pounds could never kill."