There is a solid coating of frost on the windows, the garden is officially done for the year, and sadly we have no snow! I am ready for a bit of the white stuff! I don't mind cold weather, in fact I do best in it (strangely enough I don't hurt as much in the cold). But if I am going to have dark gray skies, with heavy laden clouds, well... I want snow!
Since I didn't get any snow, I did the next best thing... I stayed inside all weekend and never even got out of my jammies. It was such a productive weekend, so many projects finished. Quality time with both my kids, Hubby tidied the house and watched a ton of movies. And I simply existed! I really need that sometimes.
The queen sized quilt is done. It only took about six hours, I am guessing. I spent nine hours working on it, but I took a lot of breaks. I am quite happy with how it turned out. I hope the owner is too. I also finished four sets of wristers, four snowmen hats, and started a fifth. I am rapidly working through my list of orders.
Today before work I will start on the layette that was ordered. I plan to get it done today or tomorrow at the latest. It has the earliest delivery date of everything on my list. I know she would like it before the holiday. I have an order to send to Arkansas. I want to have it done before the weekend. We might have family coming up and it would be great to send it down with them.
I do best when I have serious time to devote to creating. It balances me out. I was watching a show yesterday that was talking about how the majority of people today do not have the ability to do what really makes them happy. That we work jobs that we are okay with, but we are not passionate about. And then we come home in the evening and immerse ourselves in our passions. It kind of startled me out a bit. It was like he was talking about me.
I love my job, I love the people I work with and the people I work to help. But it is not my passion. My passion involves fibers, threads, paint, wood... any medium that I can create useful beauty with. If I lost that... I am afraid I would lose the very essence of me.
There was a period in my life that I simply couldn't create, my soul felt void. For almost three months nothing was created, touched, even dreamed about. It was a horrid, dark and miserable time for me. I felt lost. One day I saw a pattern and I knew that I had to make it. It was a terrible struggle, I was very ill at the time and quilting when your hands shake and quiver is not easy. But each stitch, every little bit of it, healed my heart. I hope the child it was made for has it or even liked it. I don't know. The whole situation was odd and incomprehensible. I never even took a picture of it. As it was during a time I have only slight recollections of, I can only vaguely remember it. I know it was a teddy bear, and I know I still have the pattern I used somewhere.
What it looked like wasn't the important part. What it did for me was. It healed my heart, my spirit and my joy. It was a turning point for me. To create for me is what keeps me whole. I used to be embarrassed by it, I used to think it was simply odd. I mean what reasonable person carries a ball of yarn and needles or a zip lock bag filled with quilt bits in their purse? I am seriously the person that shipped all of their belongings from Germany to their new home, including most of their clothing, but packed in my suitcase my Pfaff sewing machine and a king sized white on white quilt in my carry-on so I could work on it on the flight back.
Back then it felt like it was a flaw. Like I was too childish to leave my toys at home. Now I realize, it is simply me. I am a creative person. My hands need to be moving, my mind exploring and it is simply a part of who I am.
I'm OK with snippets and bits of yarn around me, every tote bag I own is full of yarns, fibers, or fabrics. I am surrounded by the things that bring me joy. Hubby makes sure that I have quality tools, the days of the $2 needles (with burrs and dull points) are long gone, and for that I am grateful. It only adds to the joy when I hold those beautiful needles or hooks in my hands. To feel them sliding though the fibers is therapy.
My house is not spotless, but my mind is at rest. I will choose the peace and sanity that comes with creating every time.