I see it’s been a while since I posted—close to two months, in fact. As to why I’ve been remiss, as I told a fellow blogger, I just haven’t been in the mood to post. And when I started this blog (my fourth), I made myself a promise I wouldn’t force myself to post, that I would only do so when inspiration struck. My previous blogs got mired down because they began to feel like a job: I had to show up at the appointed time and produce or some calamitous event might occur. I’ve never been good with that. Too much pressure. I held down a job for many years and was seldom absent, but in that context, calamity would strike if I didn’t show. Things like losing my house or vehicle, not eating, and such. A blog is another kettle of fish…or whatever.
Shortly after my last post, this whole Covid-19 thing reared its ugly, diseased head. I was in the middle of writing a short story set on an alternate Earth (I’ve written five with the same setting) that just kept going and going, so I decided to take some time off WordPress to complete it. The thing ended up in novelette territory—over 17,000 words. I’m not quite sure what to do with it. Should I send it out to magazines, a process that might take months (or never) to place, with little payment for my time? Publish it in installments here? Shove it in a drawer and forget about it? Any suggestions?
Anyway, after completing the story, my creative juices flowed in another direction. Two directions actually: baking and sewing. In the baking department, I made yeast breads, quick breads, muffins, and other goodies, things I’m an old hand at, before deciding I wanted to try something I haven’t before: sourdough bread. And to make the bread, I needed a starter. I’m trying to grow my own, and so far, have killed one, water too warm, I think, and am now attempting another. I have bubbles and growth, so I think (hope) I’m on the right track.
As for sewing, I learned the how-to on my mama’s old Singer treadle machine when I was a wee one, probably younger than ten. I’m not sure about the age but remember making doll clothes on it. And for a good part of my adult life, I continued to sew off and on, but quite a few years ago, except for mending, I stopped. To be honest, I hadn’t broken out my machine for any reason in probably 8 or 10 years, then I couldn’t find the face masks we were all told to wear, no way, no how. No problem, I thought, I’ll make them.
You should have heard my poor machine when I put the pedal to the metal—squeak, squeak, squeak. But I persevered, stitching along a piece of scrap fabric, turn, stitch another row, again and again until my machine was sewing as smoothly and quietly as it had when it had been put out to pasture so many years ago. I would expect no less from a Singer.
To my surprise, I enjoyed making the masks, so much so that I’m now itching to make something. Anything! I need new potholders, so I think I’ll make a few to get back in practice, then move on to something bigger. I haven’t decided yet what that might be, but being mostly housebound for the foreseeable future, I’ve got to come up with something to keep myself occupied and in a different room than Husband. Our marriage may depend on it.
In this time of rabid intolerance, can you imagine being married to someone whose political views are the opposite of yours? Okay, before Covid-19 this was manageable, just don’t talk politics. But with the cable news networks now blasting information/disinformation 24/7, Husband has been stressing out. Combine that with his ongoing TDS, and you have a powder keg about to blow. I’ve already gotten scorched a few times.
Baking, sewing, writing, a lot of reading…what else can I find to do indoors? In another room from Husband, of course.
©️2020 KT Workman