works in progress

I’m doing a little bit of redwork, for a rather belated one quit project. Yesterday I needed something that required no space and very little thought, and embroidery is just the perfect thing for that.

Our house is at the moment in a total state of disarray (which is different than our continual state of minor disarray). Our dining table is in the living room, and it’s laden with everything from the pantry. Our dining is half covered in drop sheet and half covered in laundry. The coffee maker is on the dining room floor, but you can bet it’s full of coffee. The stove and kitchen cabinets are in the big back room (a wip in itself). This is all so that the kitchen floor could be sanded yesterday, which Elie did, in very unpleasant heat. Good Lord, that man can work. The floor will be lovely when it’s done, but it’s such a mess now. The fact that it bothers me is very interesting because I have a rather high tolerance for living in renovation mess. (You may recall that I didn’t have a kitchen ceiling for about two years.) I guess this is somehow my limit. I think I even know why—there’s no usable table. Who knew that the table was so important? I guess I want somewhere to lay out my thoughts, to make my lists, to eat peacefully, and just to serve the the logical place to put a thing down. At times like this I think you’re supposed to go to the Italian pastry shop and buy an assortment of mini cannolis, cookies, and little tarts. At least, that’s the way I was brought up. Of course, we don’t have an Italian pastry shop. Oh, how I miss New Jersey sometimes.

Enough of that. I don’t really want to whine—it’s clear that at some point yesterday I was doing embroidery while my better half labored in a dust bath. More a point of interest than anything else. I’m going off to Caseys to buy donuts.