Hey there, friends! If you are still there... (sheepish grimace)
This whole grieving thing is pretty strange. I just forget stuff all the time. Like blogging. Doctor appointments. But, I'm doing much better these days and trying to adjust to my new "normal." By the way, I won $100 in that contest! How about that?! Dad would be proud.
Today, my son is home from school due to a nasty cough. So, I get to stay home until 2:15 when it is time to pick up my daughter. Hooray! More than 2 hours at home at one time! My son is relaxing on the sofa watching Transformers Animated and thoroughly enjoying himself. After making sure he was comfortable and outfitted with snacks, a water bottle and the necessary remote controls, I decided to begin the process of unearthing my bedroom. Once again. I have to do it periodically. I'm good at organizing. Not so good at maintaining that organization. Thus the periodical part.
So, I managed to get my futon cleared off. Well, most of it just got transferred to my bed for a more detailed going-through later. Preferably before I hit the hay tonight. I have always had trouble focusing. I flit from one task to another without really completing anything. The curse of a right-brainer. But I digress. See what I mean? Back to original thought: While I was in the process of returning some of the inhabitants of the futon to their rightful and proper place, I decided that I really should do myself and my husband a favor by finding a new home for the pile of fabric in our office. Now that the weather is getting nicer, it would be nice to be able to access the back door. To possess the ability of walking through the office without tripping over anything would be nice as well. Aren't I thoughtful? :)
After collecting all of the fabric from said office and other various corners of my home, this is what I now have sitting in my bedroom, looming oppressively and mocking me:
And I have just realized that this isn't even the whole of it. I just spied a bag of scraps waiting to be repurposed in the corner of the office. Rats. The main pile, shown here, is 6 feet wide. 4 feet tall. That's a lot of fabric. I'm not nearly as accomplished as my mom, who harbored Mt. Fabric in her basement for years. :) We daughters gave her quite a hard time about it. It's an illness. Genetic, I'm sure. Grandma has it, too. And Mom mocked her. See? You shouldn't mock your mother. Look what can happen to you.
While I know that my collection is not nearly as expansive as some, it is just not practical for me to have so much in my itty bitty home. Someday I'll give you the brief tour. But not now. It's a wreck. Because I'm focusing on unearthing (well, not anymore) my bedroom.
Anyway, I need to get rid of this stuff. I'm tired of unfinished projects and clutter. So now it is all moved to a central location, where I can't ignore it and must see it when I rise and when I'm on my way off to dreamland. I already de-stashed last year. I only kept what I loved and couldn't bear to part with. Or that I had specific projects in mind for. I also added some new things from the clearance bins of fabric/hobby stores that I haunt occasionally and that I rescued from Mom's de-stashing efforts. Another illness that I have inherited from my mom and grandma...we are a crazy bunch, I tell you! But we are fun!
So, finally, I get to main point of this post. (Sometimes it's fun to ramble...) Beginning May 1, I'm going to begin my efforts to craft this pile into oblivion. Much of it will be gifts. Some donations. Some will be sold to raise funds for favorite charitable organizations. I promise lots of pics. I'm not going to do one of those crazy one-project-a-day type deals. I'm too realistic for that and I have too many other responsibilities to my family, church, etc. But, my goal is to work on something for a minimum of 30 minutes a day until it's all gone. And I will post progress regularly. Probably not on weekends. But you get the idea.
Then it's on to my yarn stash. Oh my.
P.S. Dear Mom, I'm sorry for the grammar mishaps that occur throughout my posts. I'm sure the English teacher in you is cringing. Sometimes incomplete sentences are just more effective in communicating my thoughts. Because, like I said, it's hard for me to complete anything, fully. There I go again...