Am I happier since I started quilting again? I don't think it's just the quilting. First of all, I think that moving to the new place helped. It's shabby, still kind of messy, and often I have to sleep with earplugs to muffle the noise of my landlady's Catholic television station at 2 AM. But we're comfortable here, and Piccolo has adjusted very well. Some of my storage issues will be resolved when I move some large cabinet pieces down from my Mom's house, and I'm in love with the idea of getting an antique Hoosier cabinet for the kitchen.
The job is going okay. There's always going to be issues, and some unavoidable craziness, but I have lovely flexibility, and for the most part, it's not too bumpy a ride. I've had jobs before that looked good on a resume, but were just brutal to my spirit. The job fits for now.
Seeing the finished book has made me happy. There's been a fair amount of frustration with the process, and I've learned a lot. I've posted about the frustrations on occasion, then think better of it, and post gets deleted a little later.
Sometimes the Man will do or say something that is so funny, that just thinking about it makes me laugh out loud. Yesterday he went golfing in the suburbs with one of his brothers and a longtime friend. There's always some sort of animal encounter, and often he will record it for me. He'll creep up on a deer, whilstling at it like he does with Piccolo, and the deer will pause, then run away. Yesterday, he chased a goose, arms outstretched, attempting to catch it. The goose was too fast, and the Man fell down.
