handstories

works-in-progress & a story that has nothing (or everything) to do with them

    The nitty-gritty things for the show were stressing me out (again), so I gave myself permission to not worry about them this week.  Instead, a few more story squares were worked on, and I'm calm again (for now).

    This morning I had planned to go to the grocery store at ten.  After the morning rush, before the lunch crowd, and knowing the library would be open by the time I headed home.  At nine I suddenly had the feeling that I should go Now.  Five minutes later, a few blocks from home, I came upon an accident involving a scooter and a car that had happened moments before.    

    The young man was stumbling and trying to move his bike out of the road.  Being the daughter/sister/aunt of fire fighter and EMT folks, I pulled over and got out to help.  While convincing him to sit down, he looked at me and said, "Were you my teacher?"  Looking him in the face, I recognized E. right away.  He was the sweetest boy, who struggled to get his poetic thoughts down on paper.  We had spent many hours working one-on-one together on his writing more than ten years ago. 

    The accident happened right in front of the house of the woman who hit him.  We settled him on the porch, moved his bike, she brought him a blanket, and us tea, while we waited for his dad to come.  His dad arrived, and the two of us got the bike into his pickup.  As they were leaving to get him checked out at the ER, I gave E. my phone number, asking him to let me know if he was ok, and then I headed to the store (at ten o'clock).

    He texted later saying he has a torn ligament in his knee, and also how scared he was when it happened, and how it helped to suddenly see a familiar face.  He is still a sweetheart.  

    Some of the "just the right" cloths and threads are from the makings of Jude, Tina, and Deb.

blue therapy

    Because there are many things I should be thinking about and/or doing, much of last week was spent stitching blue squares for the "Story" blanket border.

    I had been holding on with stubbornness to the configuration of the center squares, even though it would mean that the whole thing would be an odd size, or require a lot more blue squares to make it fit on a bed.  I finally let go, and dismantled and rearranged some of them (a few strips were taken off of the bottom, and then sewn to a side).  The eighty plus squares from last week were more than enough to make it around its new practical shape.

    Since then, the Need-To-Do-List has had a few more items checked off of it.  I think that time in blue shook some things loose.

goings & comings

    During a quiet peaceful day alone with stitching yesterday, this story of home showed up.  It's about leaving, staying, being there, and wanting to know that are all are possible.

    Come evening, some things fell apart.  It was 9:00pm, and I needed a break.  Some wine had already happened, so driving was not an option.  I got on a bus.  

    I texted a friend, who lives on my bus line.  She was downtown at a concert, not home.  So I kept riding.  Half an hour later, across town, I got off and walked to the stop heading home.

    A moment after boarding, the friend texted that her date was leaving the concert early, if I could get to the theater, she'd try to get me in.  The bus app said a different bus was needed. Fortunately, the next stop was also for the right bus.  It was also on a dark lonely street at the edge of downtown.  When I got on the next bus, the app wouldn't work.

    I asked driver where to get off?  "You're on the wrong bus."  What to do?  He threw out all kinds of ideas.  I said that I just needed to get near 9th and then I could walk.  "Too far, wouldn't want you to do that..."  He was clearly thinking it was too sketchy of an area.  I got off near 9th, with him pointing out that the stop I should go to was just across the street.  I called out my thanks, and went the other way, down 9th.

    The theater was only six blocks away.  They were dark blocks, with a few folks sleeping in doorways, quiet and peaceful.  My friend met me outside, and attempted to bring me in.  The usher, an older no-nonsense woman, gave me the "I know what you're up to" eye, while I returned her gaze with "I'm a tired and desperate woman" eyes, and she let me go by...

    And that's how, an hour after leaving home, I was listening to Jason Mraz sing about the sun shining, not giving up, and all of the good things he wished for each of us.  It was so nice.  I cried through them all, out of weariness, and joy for the moment.  Afterwards, K. came, and drove me home.

Currents

    There's a postcard, so I guess this is really happening!

    A show with Tininha Silva (my old next door neighbor, who I miss dearly) and Tracy Hudson (her dear friend, and happily, my new one).

    If you're in the neighborhood, please come say hi!

    The details:

    Port Townsend Art Walk

    December 7th, 5-8pm

    Cotton Building, Port Townsend, WA 

drifting

    A moon from a lovely bit of Deb's dyeing.

    Trying to float for a couple days.

    I do want to write about the wonderful event I went to last Saturday, and some self-realizations... Just as soon as my brain recovers from the computer stuff (there were a few more issues to wade through).

the shorter saga

    I wrote the long story of why this dome of +'s is all of the stitching that happened this week.  It was the story of a woman and her computer, and how ignorance and denial of the blaring red flags over the years led to a technological and emotional face splat...and then I accidently deleted it (which was probably just as well).

    In brief, I was told that "Computer updates are like cars on a train, that each new car moves the others back one place, and you have fallen off the back of the caboose."  

    Getting back on the tracks involved four phone calls with their support folks (3 1/2 hours with very nice and patient people, who at least found me funny, in spite of my bad computer behavior), and three trips to the computer store.  During one visit they took my computer into their backroom (ER) overnight.  Upon my return, I was passed from one genius to another, because it still wasn't working, and then they sent me out to wander the mall for an hour (ugh).  

    Five days later, everything appears to be up and running, and I'm looking forward to spending time with cloth again.

    The End

    Moral:  Update, backup, check up, and/or befriend those who know how!