Sunday, April 29, 2012

3KCBWDAY7 Stretches of Time (wildcard)


A broad margin of leisure is as beautiful in a man's life as in a book. Haste makes waste, no less in life than in housekeeping. Keep the time, observe the hours of the universe, not of the cars.
Henry David Thoreau

Ah, if only my life reflected Thoreau’s words.  Only then, could I have the perfect crafting day.  As it is, my crafting is broken up into brief snippets of time, stolen in between work and family obligations.  I long for a day when my linen closet is filled with neatly folded, fresh smelling sheets and towels, my table is set with a pressed cloth and laden with healthy homemade food, my crafting supplies are organized and are not stuffed into nooks and crannies in my bedroom closet and garage, and the promise of a bright sunny day means uninterrupted spaces to pursue my knitting and other hobbies, such as gardening, cooking, reading, and sewing.  But such is not to be, at least not at present. 

My perfect day certainly wasn’t  possible yesterday, when I cooked a big breakfast, packed up a drink cooler, picnic supplies, and a cake and drove 30 miles to my son’s paint ball birthday party, ran home, and then cleaned up and changed clothes to go chaperone my high school’s prom, an event which was a 45-minute drive from home.
A perfect day for these boys, but not for crafting. 

My perfect crafting time wasn’t the day before, either, when I had a teacher workday, so had to attend meetings in the morning and grade piles of accumulated work in the afternoon, and I then returned home to find the pork chops I had in the fridge and had planned to cook were spoiled, and that the door to the freezer was left open, so the food in it was a sodden mess.  I also learned that when the sprayer handle falls off of the kitchen faucet spigot (when the water is running), a powerfully intense wet jet will shoot across the room and rapidly disperse gallons of water onto the CD player mounted under the opposite kitchen cabinet. 

That same evening, after some clean up and preparing of frozen pizza, while cooking a chocolate cake Cockaigne, with its requisite beating of egg whites, thickening of custard over double boiler, and two-times sifting of flour  I was also made aware of the fact that 25 mixing bowls and pots and an equal number of utensils are required.   (I also ascertained that undertaking to cook such a recipe on a Friday night is more than exhausting, although the cake did turn out well.)  Finally, to top off my evening, before going to bed, I noticed a handout (or should I say an ugly reminder) posted on the refrigerator  about a science project due to my younger son's teacher on Monday--not the upcoming Monday after the weekend, but the previous one--days past.  Somehow, this assignment had escaped both my attention.  I immediately confronted my son, who confessed ignoring the paper and said of his science teacher:  "She won't take late work." 

I need to stop.  I digress.  The scary thing is, I could write similar descriptions for nearly every day of life during the school year.  Instead, I'll address the positive.  If life were slower and there were 36 hours in each day, I might fill my hours in the following manner: 

Wake, have a leisurely breakfast, knit for a while, and then shop for plants in local nursery.   






Make a stop at bookstore, and spend hours browsing through knitting magazines and books.    Buy a coffee. 




Go to charming yarn shop and spend time slowly examining nearly every skein.  (Photos were taken at Rainy Day Creations in Pineville, NC.)





Return home, and still have hours remaining to sketch designs, spin, and knit.  Spend time in chair in backyard.  Actually finish a project. 



This  Louisa Harding capelet is almost complete. 


Take my dog for a walk, and spend a moment to enjoy the natural surroundings.   


Have time and energy remaining to prepare a meal for my family.  This repast would consist of food I love, and my husband and children would enthusiastically devour it.  My 14-year-old son would exclaim, "Um, the the delicate seasoning on these mussels is superb."



After this leisurely meal, actually finish a knitting project.  And then, watch some wonderful BBC costume drama, while knitting, spend some time reading a Victorian novel, and go to bed. 

5 comments:

  1. That nursery looks lovely! I'm guessing North Carolina is very to conducive for gardening? Yet another plus! That capelet is beautiful!

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    1. Hi. The spring in North Carolina is beautiful. Gardening is different here, though. It's too hot for some things, as July and August can be scorchers. (I didn't want to say it in my blog, but I actually took those photos at Walmart. I was exhausted yesterday, and scrambing to think of something for my blog today. Walmart actually had a bunch of great plants, though.)

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  2. This post made me smile so much - so many echoes with my own life! Especially the missed homework deadline and the inimitable line from your son - "She won't take late work." - why do these things happen not just once but repeatedly?! Never mind where the photos came from - they told the story beautifully. I hope you get to have a lovely day off soon and finish your very beautiful capelet in a peaceful garden free from wayward water jets, piles of washing up and where reminder notes on your fridge door are just to say - don't forget there is a lovely homemade cake made just for you to have with a cup of tea when you are ready to take a break from the knitting! Happy dreaming! Elizabeth x

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  3. Oh that's a busy life!! It all looks so lovely there though whenever you do get time to do even a snippet of the things you enjoy. I hope you will be able to relax sometime soon. I enjoy costume dramas too, my favourite is Lark Rise to Candleford, I'm sad because it finished last year and the BBC won't make any more! Your capelet looks beautiful :-)

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    1. I like Larkrise, too. I haven't seen them all, though. My summer break is coming soon, so I should be able to relax a little.

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