In the abstract

Eric's been craving bacon for a while now. (I call couvade syndrome. Aren't I the one who's supposed to be having cravings?) He finally bought some over the weekend from Andersons, where he prefers to get meat (and we both prefer to get produce), and fried it up last night. "It smells good," I said, and as he always does whenever I say that about meat, he offered me some. I declined, and something occurred to me that hadn't before: I don't really think of meat as food. For me, that is. It can have a nice smell that reminds me of a good restaurant or (in this case) Sunday breakfasts when I was a kid, but that doesn't make me want to eat it. "It's like the way I imagine a gay man feels about a pretty woman," I told Eric. "Abstract admiration, but no interest in partaking."

I had a long weekend, since I was taking my February days off this week so that I could be here next week while one of my coworkers is traveling, and we spent Monday and Tuesday doing household things (shopping and trying to repair a leaky spigot--we need insulation protection gear before proceeding) and sleeping late. It was lovely. I asked Eric what time he was getting up this morning, since he planned to visit a couple of school district administrative offices, and he said, "We should probably try to get up before nine." I reminded him that I had to go to work in the morning, but I thought wistfully that it would be wonderful not to have to. Would we get tired of each other? I don't know. Would I get more done? I hope so. I did some quilting and some writing and some laundry, so it wasn't a wasted couple of days by any means (not to mention the shopping and household repairs), but I always think I could have done more than I did.

This week: finish the spigot repair, write, quilt, plant broccoli, plan my planting schedule, make sure Eric does something every day. He really seems to want the structure that having work gives to his day; he's not enjoying the time off as I wish he could, though I understand why. Also, the sooner he figures out the substituting thing, the sooner we can decide whether I can buy plane tickets to go visit my family in April.

How to not to do

I am totally, totally, totally uninterested in writing. This includes the article that I need to get done by Tuesday so that I can send it to the interviewee as promised (I already know that was a bad move, but I promised) and finish it and turn it in after Thanksgiving.

I have finished all the pieces for this baby sweater I'm knitting for my friend C. I designed it, and I'm pleased it's turned out well so far. Except I started matching pieces up and discovered that one of the sleeves is slightly but noticeably yellower than the rest of the sweater. I was pretty sure I got all the same dye lot, but apparently I was wrong--or deceived.

I have done about a third, maybe two-fifths, of the quilting for James's quilt. This quilt totally rocks. I'm still considering keeping it and making him a lesser one. (Actually I'm not, but it amuses me to say that. And I'm very, very pleased with how it's turned out. I can already see where I should have improved things, but that's all right.)

I have discovered I don't really like spinning silk because its staple is so long. I have some silk-camel that I'm planning to make into some decadent handwarmers for me and the spinning isn't bad, but it's not as fun as pure wool is, or even the Shetland/angora mix I was working with previously.

I have that historical sewing seminar tomorrow from noon to 5. I'd completely forgotten about it when drawing up my plans for the weekend. So I've got writing and quilting and all my garden clean-up and canning apple pie filling scheduled. This is unfortunate.

At present I'm planning on doing garden clean-up as soon as I get up in the morning, since I can't wait until after I get home because it'll be dark; and working on the article and quilting afterward, and maybe putting off the canning, depending. The quilting has to be done by the end of Monday at least so I can use Tuesday for attaching the binding, which I can then finish on the plane and at Mom and Dad's house and leave the quilt there--though first I've got to check what airline we're flying and whether it would be cheaper to mail it, depending on how much we're packing. Fiction writing doesn't technically have to be done; article writing does. Sleep does. Off I go to do it.

To do

This weekend:

-finish James's quilt's quilting (which requires reteaching myself to stipple)
-attach quilt binding (preparatory to finishing the binding on the plane ride over, which I know perfectly well is what I'm going to end up doing)
-do laundry (to have clothes for packing)
-clean the house (so we come back to a clean house)
-finish cleaning the garden (because otherwise the rabbits will stay all winter)
-make sourdough bread (to use up the extra starter I have)
-get Shoelace to 70K (because I've been in the 60Ks too long for my liking)
-attend Metroparks historic sewing seminar (because why not?)

It has been a weekend full of not doing much, in the dark. I forgot that I dislike winter. I think I'll feel better once the garden is fully put away and the house is cleaner. And I'm packed. We're leaving Wednesday for Seattle, coming back Sunday. I won't be seeing my family as much as I'd like during this trip--Mom and Dad are both working part of the time--but there will be mornings and afternoons (and coffee spoons), and Thanksgiving with all the family (to which we'll bring my potato-cheese casserole, because Eric loves it and he didn't like the mashed potatoes the last time we were out there for Thanksgiving), and cookie-making, and musical-watching, and relaxing. Someday I want to take a vacation that doesn't involve family, but I do like holidays with the family. And then it will be post-Thanksgiving, and the Christmas lights and music will not irritate me quite as much as they currently do.

Time dilation

My God, I completely forgot how long a day can be when you're home alone with a long list of fairly congenial tasks. I have baked two kinds of bread, made one kind of ice cream, finished Dad's quilt top (remind me never to work with T-shirts again; also, why do I always realize that my design/color is ugly when I'm almost done and have no energy or time to start over? though I notice that generally goes away, though I'm not sure whether that's distance from the work or resignation), vacuumed, filled out the credit card fraud form (I have to get it notarized. Where do I go to have this done?), washed hand-washed laundry, and entertained a friend (who said the lemon ice cream was the best ice cream she's ever had).

Still to do tomorrow: one freelance assignment, birth and tie the quilt (because I'm not quilting; it'll take too long and will only make it look worse--luckily Dad won't really care), regular laundry, start packing, weed and mulch. Not bad, not bad at all. I can hardly believe I've got a whole other day of weekend.