Dropped the basket completely.
Right there in front of God and everybody on a beastly summer morning.
(At least that's how my novel starts in my head anyways.)
Hello, Dearies. I'm coming to you from the friendly confines of CS2, and not, it would seem, from the psychiatric ward of a very special mental health facility in some place far far away. I am well, just discombobulated by back pain and several months of solitude and spinstering while my Jersey Boy administers tender loving care to his mom.
I've kind of fallen into a monastic routine...I've been writing morning pages and reading/studying non-fiction in the mornings, eating my cottage cheese/fruit plate for a very late breakfast/lunch, doing a small core or two, and then spending the rest if the day with eyeballs glued to the Mad Men. In between there is a salad with either grilled chicken or salmon, vats and vats of iced water with lemon, and enough damn good/cold brew to open a Starbucks drive-through. At midnight-ish (OK, 3am), I finally turn out the lights and hit a few pages of a novel before falling into a weird sleep.
(Yes, Betty, my sleep/wake schedule is screwed up, and I know that my stitching and diamond painting production has dropped to zero, but if you know me, you know that the deep summer months have always been somewhat problematic for me.)
Speaking of problematic...
See what I did there?
I was taught that the selvedge side (in the photo, the bottom with the orange stripe), should always be to the right or left when stitching on canvas. Something about the warp and weft of the fibers? Well, I have had nothing but trouble with this since starting it, and in the midst of frogging the middle portion, I realized that I was probably having trouble because I have been trying to stitch against the grain, as it were.
So I think this is going to come off of the stretcher bars, a new piece is going to get fished out of the cube room studio, and I will try try again later this afternoon.
As for me, Don Draper and King Lear...let's just say that I finished a binge of all 94 episodes of one and re-started it from the beginning again yesterday afternoon, and finally read a Cliff Notes summary of the other to get some characters straight in my tiny little brain that really shouldn't be reading The Bard without adult supervision.
Somerset, however, delighted me completely, and when I couldn't sleep at 2:22 this morning (*) I turned the final page and had a good long weepy cry all over the front of my Costco pajamas. I didn't expect to love this book so much, but it hit me...deep. I guess now I need to go watch the film version with Bette Davis to truly get knocked out.
That's the full report from here in Hoosierville on what I think is another hot and steamy Tuesday. I have no idea what the weather is actually doing out there, since moving about or attempting to climb down or up a staircase is more than I think these back muscles will allow.
I hope your August is off to a roaring start! How are you faring during these last few weeks of Summer? Come tell me all about it!
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