Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a day late but I was busy yesterday. Too busy to blog? Yes, too busy to blog. I got busy downstairs organizing yarn and patterns and needles and fabrics into a crafting area that I can use. I can actually put the ironing board up and iron without having to drape fabric over boxes. There's room to open out the cutting table I got from Mom's and use it to cut fabric or sort a bin of yarn. All of my fabrics, except for the 2 bins of swimsuit fabrics, are now neatly organized into an old wooden armoire right outside of the crafting area so it'll stay out of the dust and sawdust but be more accessible. It looks wonderful and will make it a joy to work down there. I even carried the vacuum down there this morning and vacuumed the carpet! This is a great start to my resolution to spend one day per week clearing out a part of the house. I figure if I take it in small bites it won't seem like such a monumental task and I'll have a fighting chance of sticking to it. I made a pot of Black-Eyed Pea Gumbo and a pan of cornbread for supper last night just in case the superstition about it bringing prosperity in the new year isn't just a superstition. It was yummy, but not meaty enough for Durwood. For him if there's no meat it's not a meal. Ah well, I don't begrudge him that one teensy flaw.
January 1--Edgar Degas, The Dance Class. She loved the way the music played along her bones and muscles. She knew she'd never be a real ballerina, never be good enough, like Jenny Taylor, to get a tryout for the ABT but that was okay. Dance put her firmly in her body. It made her in charge in these awful years when she was going from girl to woman. Dance gave her good posture and taught her hands to be graceful. She liked the feel of dancing with her class. To be in a group of twelve, all of whom where doing the same steps felt magical.
Be of good cheer! I am.