Lately, I feel like I get to the end of the day and wonder where the freaking time went. Did I blog? Did I make cat blankets? Did I finally make an appointment with a dentist? Maybe, maybe not. Did I place a grocery order or call my congresscritters? Did I spend enough time with each cat and all the chickens? Did I turn the composter or read a book? Take pictures for the blog or make my breakfast for tomorrow morning? I have so many questions. As I write, Wednesday snores at my right and Drusy is trying to crawl under my laptop. My left ankle is mildly sprained for the hundredth time and it’s no big deal. My job is full of weird palace intrigue, uncertainty and people I love. Two of my closest friends are ill and if my wits had an end, I’d be a mile past that with my thumb out, hoping to hitch a ride home.
It’s time for something different. A change of seasons, a change in the garden, in the animals, in me. I don’t know what will happen. For once, that’s kind of cool.
We’re expecting a snowstorm tonight and another immediately following. Somehow, this does not amount to expecting a snow day. How-how-how can two separate snowstorms in one night not result in my spending my tomorrow in jammies, kneading whole wheat dough?
When I’m at home during daylight hours, every two hours I pour a pot of boiling water over a frozen water dispenser for the chickens and give them treats. They reward me with a few eggs and standing at the other side of the run, pretending we’ve never met. It is winter, after all. The chickens have wild ideas about me. Why can’t I fix this wet stuff falling from the sky, with a roof over the run perhaps? It’s hard to look at this and not think, “Since I can manipulate their weather, I should make it spring already. Where’s my tanning lotion?”
Annual report time!
This started out as the Cat Blanket Project. The Lovely Georg, Ceiling Cat Remember Her With Fishy Treats, asked friends to knit or crochet blankets for animal shelters, which I did. But then people from all over – possibly including you – send me yarn in large boxes; other agencies/organizations ask for yarny help. So! You trusted me with art supplies. This is what I did with them in 2014, in 2015, and in 2016:
cat blankets These go to Georg or to a shelter with which Georg is in contact. In 2017, I added crocheted cat toys.
baby blankets A nearby hospital has a baby blanket project. I try to make blankets early in the year or during long car trips. I sometimes buy special yarn for this.
scarves There are a number of projects that ask for scarves. I send or deliver them all over the place. Mostly, I buy yarn for this that I think will be fun and soft to wear.
hats Several agencies ask for hats for infants, children and adults. Infant hats are quick to crochet.
lap blankets There’s a chemo facility nearby that asks for lap blankets for patients. I send these through a friend. She feels they are greatly appreciated. In 2017, lap blankets also went to veterans near the Shore.
In 2017, I stitched my fingers off!
Early in the year, I sent out 15 cat blankets and a friend donated an additional blanket. Later, 45 + 45 cat toys went to the same place. That’s 10 more blankets than I produced last year, yay!
Three baby blankets went to the hospital project. Four scarves and three hats went to a community project. I made a thick, giant rug for a very large dog belonging to a very elderly lady.
Seven lap blankets went to veterans, through new friends. Two large blankets went to the Welcome Blanket Project. Finally, early in the year, I made 36 pussy hats for the Women’s March On Washington. I totally bought out my local yarn store’s pink yarn supply!
Sometimes, when donated boxes of yarn arrive at my door, the skeins look like random leftovers from dozens of projects, but sometimes they don’t. This year, I spread out the contents of one box on the floor of my craft lair and discovered unfinished sweaters, Alpine lace, knitting needles, bobbins, threaded tapestry needles. Many things were individually wrapped in plastic bags and labeled. My impression was that a knitter’s projects stopped suddenly, and everything ended up in the box.
Thank you, you, you for trusting me.
Not many people know this about me: I don’t eat doughnuts. It’s not that I’ve joined the Doughnut Temperance League (meetings Tuesday nights at the Best Buy near the feed store), it’s that I have no metabolism and the fastest way to double in size is eat a doughnut or six. I don’t really miss the doughnuts I don’t eat. So when I was encouraged to get a doughnut, that is exactly what I did not do.
“Ta,” you say, “this is fascinating and all – everything about you is! – but what does it have to do with – for example – me?” I haven’t got the faintest idea, really. At the moment, I’m sitting at a desk, waiting for someone to finish a task so I can resume doing a very large job where I work at the unnamed university. Waiting is a skill. I do not have it! It is taking a great deal of effort on my part not to skitter across this room, loom over the working someone and bellow, “ARE YOU FINISHED? BECAUSE MY MIND IS WANDERING AND I AM TALKING ABOUT DOUGHNUTS.” You can see where that might be a workplace no-no. And I am so hoping my new supervisor won’t have HR on speed dial.