I must say I am enjoying having the shop all to myself. There is a serenity there that envelopes me into a blissful state. I’ve often described walking through the door of my studio, seeing all the colour and feel as if I'm getting a hug from a rainbow. I do miss Shane and Deborah, that goes without saying, and I look forward to the pandemic being behind us so life can find a new normal and reunite the team. In the meantime, I’m making lemonade with this COVID-19 lemon and I’m thrilled to provide our products to those who wish to pass the time rug hooking.
What I like best about being alone in the studio is that I don’t have to fancy myself up to go to work. Not that I ever did, I’ve never been a splashy dresser, although I clean up well when I have to. I am most happy in old paint clothes so splattered with all the colours I’ve used over the years that people ask if I got any on the project I’m working on. I’m calling my new everyday attire my COVID Couture! I get up an get ready for the day and throw on crap clothes, no ironing, not worried about wrinkles so deep I could hide candy in the creases.
Ironing seems to be my nemesis and doing laundry is not on my radar until I’m short of something, so most of my good clothes generally lay on the laundry room floor. Good planning means that we have dozens of towels, thanks to Costco bulk buying, and many sets of bed sheets, and hubby and I have plenty of intimate wear and renovating clothes, so we can go quite a spell before I have to shovel a path through the mountain of laundry to get to the washing machine. Right now, hubby is wearing a pair of black faded jeans that have many holes, not the kind you buy purposely shredded, you know, the expensive ones that dictate that the less material the more you pay, no, these are worn thin and dissolving from pure age and being washed a hundred times.
I’ve never been good at keeping up with laundry so I play to my faults and buy enough underwear and socks to last a month or so. The heap sometimes stands as tall as the dryer, and oh I should mention that I have a stacking pair to give you a better idea of the height of those piles. When Larry comes to clean, I tell him not to open the laundry room door, concerned for his safely over the eminent avalanche. But before you judge me unfairly, I'm not a total Pig-pen, the rest of my house is uncluttered, tidy and clean, only the laundry room hides my dirty little secret, both figuratively and literally. I don't get stressed or overwhelmed at the sight of it, I just close the door and walk away, problem temporarily solved. Sometime in the next few weeks when the mood hits me and I'll do twenty loads in a day and feel satisfied. Why feel good in little increments when I can binge wash it all and feel over the moon fabulous. That's the way I roll!
I left the house today without bothering to pencil on my eyebrows. Without highlighting them, they are practically nonexistent, like Doris Mann's character played by Shirley MacLaine in Postcards From the Edge, when her daughter Suzanne Vale (Meryl Streep) draws on her eyebrows while she is in the hospital after being in a drunk driving accident. She tells her daughter, when I die make sure you don’t let anyone see me without my eyebrows. One of my top five favourite movies!
My blond eyelashes don’t show either, quite frankly I look like an albino with my pale skin especially wearing the black T-shirt I slept in last night that I’m wearing at work. I don’t have sweat pants but I’d wear them if I did and feel fabulous. No one sees me at the shop and I’m not the type to dolly up to put out the garbage so wearing loose, baggy and shapeless clothes, perhaps no bra, is an exercise in freedom I rather enjoy. Quite frankly, I’ve not been washing my hair every day either, every second day seems to be fine, and I’m loving this break from all the chemicals I usually put on my body every day from creams, shampoo and deodorant. At a time when we need an optimal immune system to fight the lurking virus, less product can’t hurt. So, give your bodies a break and go au natural, it’s healthier. I might look a fright but I feel wholesome and that dang virus doesn’t care what we look like, why fix ourselves up for it. (I will fix myself up for trips to the post office, I do have my pride) Another perk to wearing renovating clothes ensures I don’t have to worry about marker ruining good clothes as I draw out patterns or dye splashing all over me when I’m playing with wool.
You should see the state the shop is in. I put nothing back after I’ve used it. Shane would be shaking his finger at me but in my defense, I’m working at warp speed to get the orders out, so I’ll worry about the trail of patterns, wool dust, markers and piles of wool later. There are enough linen threads on the floor to weave a shawl. I feel absolutely no guilt, I’ll clean it later, as a matter of fact I’ve read somewhere that mess is a sign of genius……
My fella has been taking care of me. Last evening, I came home to roast chicken, dressing and various steamed veggies. He’s feeding me and does all the dishes so I can concentrate on working on the orders. I’ve been the canary in the mine for us for the last several weeks, making the trips out for provisions and to the shop while he hasn’t left the house in over a month. He keeps the firewood stacked and all of us warm. I like having a house hubby, I figured only one of us should go out, use the car, buy groceries. When I come home, he opens the door for me so I don’t touch it, and then we wash everything with soapy water. I wash up as well and clean up the car, my phone, my keys. It’s a lot of work but necessary to do our part for our health and community.
Yesterday I could have used a burly man to help me haul the load of parcels to the post office but what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger, well maybe in this new normal I shouldn’t use those words because it could kill me. Truthfully, I get a little nervous in the post office with a lot of people coming and going but I’m very careful. Touching nothing, including my face, wearing gloves to remind me not to touch my face, and washing everything down once back at the shop.
The Post Office now has a facial shield up between the public and the clerks and they have large red circles stickers with white footprints on the floor to show you where to stand six feet apart. They remind me of the bunny prints that used to be on the floor in Bill’s Store leading to Toy Land. Remember? Most folks abide by the rules but I hear some don’t. I’m really not sure why they think they are impervious to COVID-19 or why they don’t abide by the procedures, surely at this stage they’ve heard how serious it is? The pandemic is a test of our character, it will show everyone who we really are to the world and we will remember the good, the bad and the ugly after it is over…….
What I like best about being alone in the studio is that I don’t have to fancy myself up to go to work. Not that I ever did, I’ve never been a splashy dresser, although I clean up well when I have to. I am most happy in old paint clothes so splattered with all the colours I’ve used over the years that people ask if I got any on the project I’m working on. I’m calling my new everyday attire my COVID Couture! I get up an get ready for the day and throw on crap clothes, no ironing, not worried about wrinkles so deep I could hide candy in the creases.
Ironing seems to be my nemesis and doing laundry is not on my radar until I’m short of something, so most of my good clothes generally lay on the laundry room floor. Good planning means that we have dozens of towels, thanks to Costco bulk buying, and many sets of bed sheets, and hubby and I have plenty of intimate wear and renovating clothes, so we can go quite a spell before I have to shovel a path through the mountain of laundry to get to the washing machine. Right now, hubby is wearing a pair of black faded jeans that have many holes, not the kind you buy purposely shredded, you know, the expensive ones that dictate that the less material the more you pay, no, these are worn thin and dissolving from pure age and being washed a hundred times.
I’ve never been good at keeping up with laundry so I play to my faults and buy enough underwear and socks to last a month or so. The heap sometimes stands as tall as the dryer, and oh I should mention that I have a stacking pair to give you a better idea of the height of those piles. When Larry comes to clean, I tell him not to open the laundry room door, concerned for his safely over the eminent avalanche. But before you judge me unfairly, I'm not a total Pig-pen, the rest of my house is uncluttered, tidy and clean, only the laundry room hides my dirty little secret, both figuratively and literally. I don't get stressed or overwhelmed at the sight of it, I just close the door and walk away, problem temporarily solved. Sometime in the next few weeks when the mood hits me and I'll do twenty loads in a day and feel satisfied. Why feel good in little increments when I can binge wash it all and feel over the moon fabulous. That's the way I roll!
I left the house today without bothering to pencil on my eyebrows. Without highlighting them, they are practically nonexistent, like Doris Mann's character played by Shirley MacLaine in Postcards From the Edge, when her daughter Suzanne Vale (Meryl Streep) draws on her eyebrows while she is in the hospital after being in a drunk driving accident. She tells her daughter, when I die make sure you don’t let anyone see me without my eyebrows. One of my top five favourite movies!
My blond eyelashes don’t show either, quite frankly I look like an albino with my pale skin especially wearing the black T-shirt I slept in last night that I’m wearing at work. I don’t have sweat pants but I’d wear them if I did and feel fabulous. No one sees me at the shop and I’m not the type to dolly up to put out the garbage so wearing loose, baggy and shapeless clothes, perhaps no bra, is an exercise in freedom I rather enjoy. Quite frankly, I’ve not been washing my hair every day either, every second day seems to be fine, and I’m loving this break from all the chemicals I usually put on my body every day from creams, shampoo and deodorant. At a time when we need an optimal immune system to fight the lurking virus, less product can’t hurt. So, give your bodies a break and go au natural, it’s healthier. I might look a fright but I feel wholesome and that dang virus doesn’t care what we look like, why fix ourselves up for it. (I will fix myself up for trips to the post office, I do have my pride) Another perk to wearing renovating clothes ensures I don’t have to worry about marker ruining good clothes as I draw out patterns or dye splashing all over me when I’m playing with wool.
You should see the state the shop is in. I put nothing back after I’ve used it. Shane would be shaking his finger at me but in my defense, I’m working at warp speed to get the orders out, so I’ll worry about the trail of patterns, wool dust, markers and piles of wool later. There are enough linen threads on the floor to weave a shawl. I feel absolutely no guilt, I’ll clean it later, as a matter of fact I’ve read somewhere that mess is a sign of genius……
My fella has been taking care of me. Last evening, I came home to roast chicken, dressing and various steamed veggies. He’s feeding me and does all the dishes so I can concentrate on working on the orders. I’ve been the canary in the mine for us for the last several weeks, making the trips out for provisions and to the shop while he hasn’t left the house in over a month. He keeps the firewood stacked and all of us warm. I like having a house hubby, I figured only one of us should go out, use the car, buy groceries. When I come home, he opens the door for me so I don’t touch it, and then we wash everything with soapy water. I wash up as well and clean up the car, my phone, my keys. It’s a lot of work but necessary to do our part for our health and community.
Yesterday I could have used a burly man to help me haul the load of parcels to the post office but what doesn’t kill me will make me stronger, well maybe in this new normal I shouldn’t use those words because it could kill me. Truthfully, I get a little nervous in the post office with a lot of people coming and going but I’m very careful. Touching nothing, including my face, wearing gloves to remind me not to touch my face, and washing everything down once back at the shop.
The Post Office now has a facial shield up between the public and the clerks and they have large red circles stickers with white footprints on the floor to show you where to stand six feet apart. They remind me of the bunny prints that used to be on the floor in Bill’s Store leading to Toy Land. Remember? Most folks abide by the rules but I hear some don’t. I’m really not sure why they think they are impervious to COVID-19 or why they don’t abide by the procedures, surely at this stage they’ve heard how serious it is? The pandemic is a test of our character, it will show everyone who we really are to the world and we will remember the good, the bad and the ugly after it is over…….
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