A few weekend goals that are likely to fall by the wayside if anything more compelling grabs my attention (sitting on couch with glass of wine, for example):
- Finishing the last half sleeve of the Indicum and then blocking it. I ripped back one of the sleeves and redid it. That pissed me off. I'm not overly motivated. Mind you, now's the time to wear that thing...
- Making more Hudson pants. I used the rest of that grey fabric to make a pair for M and she loves them. Then I was compelled to buy 3 yards of fabric (black fleece, "denim" ponte and gunmetal ponte) to make more. My Fabrications order arrived from US to TO (via USPS) in 2 days. I love those people. Best client service ever and the shipping is a flat 20 bucks. Oh, and the fabric is terrific.
- Remaking this mash up dress I didn't like when I constructed it the first time, but which I wear because it's very comfortable and everyone loves it. I'd wear it more, if it weren't too small in the midsection. Note: It was always too small.
- Baking these. (Let's see if this is a gluten-free baked good I don't have to throw out...)
I'm trying to find some way to accept the incompleteness of everything - the disposition of things to fall apart (cuz the centre cannot hold, and all that). Of course, I'm not living through the horror and aftermath of war so it strikes me I should shut up and buck up. This is the way it goes. How will I come to terms with the fundamental nature of disorder?
I guess this is why I'll never be bored in this life. But will I ever be content?
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Ah yes, the philosophy at the end of the post. . . resonates with my current state. You'd think all the shit would have come together by 61, right? And overall, I'd say I'm pretty solid, pragmatic, etc., but I'm still looking around the corner for having it all together. And I think there are a few more corners. . . .So learning to be content with the fundamental nature of disorder is the trick, isn't it?
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