Queasy Rider
This season is my hardest, and each year I keep thinking I’ll finally manage the One Simple New Year Resolution: Put Things Back Where They Belong.
This can mean : no foraging, or simply wash the meal’s dishes.
Judging from the clutter levels, I don’t reach 30% of that goal (assuming roughly a hundred grab/use/misplace “events”)
Digression: when did the word “event” begin meaning “sale”? Did I have my back turned? All auto advertisements make selling a car a frickin’ ‘event’.
Here’s a commercial I love.
Back to the winter of my confusion.
I’ve done Jacquie Shit since returning from the 60-day bicycle trip intended to prove to myself I can be ‘self-sufficient’. The journey, performed on an increasingly worn-out “Bruiser Lightning” (used to be a Breezer) showed me to be intensely self-insufficient.
Clueless, careless, impatient, and always adapting.
But mostly: meeting people!
My tag line these days in personal she-mail is from Deborah Tannen: “Each person’s life is lived as a series of conversations.”
It’s how I made do in darkest New Zealand. My list of sponsor/hosts/kind benefactors is as long as my leg. They’re listed on the back of the huge cardboard L&P bottle I toted around during SSWC.
But now, home again with the one who’s suffered me the longest, it’s shocking to see how my re-entry is ‘bombing’ the place.
So this morning, more than a month after returning, I swear I’ll do something. Anything. Something destructive, restorative.
Hack that gorgeous olive wool jersey Joy hurled yesterday.
Pity for objects is my problem.
Inanimate object I feel sorry for fits me perfectly–on the X-axis! But way too shortyon the Y.
Just throw in a middle stripe, I’ve always liked them.
Make exposed seams for an edgier look. The result was a mess: wool skirt material’s not the same soft stretchy jersey stuff that Bridgestone Owners Bunch made their great woolens from.
Result: a roomy midsection, as if anticipating a mid-winter spare tire. Note to Mad Dog: old guys who get fat in winter need this feature!
Then, in an attempt to feel better about the wardrobe malfunction, I carefully ripped out the seams (easy with Conrad OHO’s sew-sew stuff) and…pin back together again) this time with the seams on the inside. Slim down the middle section, and: got somewhere. Will put on next blog (feeble attempt at suspense).