Bin Stood Up Again
Such a busy day planned - breakfast with Mary, walk with Carolyn, then lunch with Cissy., but Mary had forgotten Charlie was staying over and Carolyn had forgotten an appointment so I am cut loose. I had scrubbed up (paint on my hands still) so don't feel like launching into the next round of carpentry and painting. Not in lip gloss.
I heard a crash while I was in the shower, the engraving of our Park Village house had fallen, glass broken but no damage. A Portent? If so, of what? That is always the hard bit.
I will have to think of another way to have fun, and it involves getting out of the house, especially as housework has taken a back seat this week, and I only clear the sawdust away so it doesn't get into the paint. I am delighted with the working class dark brown of the lower kitchen cupboards. I did my usual trick of using undercoat to get the iconic colour which reminds me of unpretentious old country houses with built-in pantries and benches in old plain colours, worn and comfortable and absolutely fitting. And that makes me homesick for rain, and green, and gardens.
Yesterday I had the delightful task of finding a map for the new cupboard front. This is harder than it sounds, because I need the right aspect ratio and I like plenty of water, and thrifty mapmakers shove little boxes of information into the blue areas . I settled on a Michelin map of Scotland which sadly had to end at Inverness as there was a box at that latitude, but it fits perfectly, I can see Arran and there is a lot of blue.
As my carpentry improves I am spending some time refining my earlier efforts. My toolbox has improved too, how else would I have planed down the floorboard?
I think I am active to keep darker musings at bay, the key one that the best any of us could do for the world would be to remove ourselves from it, taking as many other mortals with us as we could. This is not an integrate way of being, and I can feel the fault line in my reason which of course hurts no one but me. At the same time I love babies, and puppies, and pansies, and cities. Maybe there just isn't a need to be reasonable.
I heard a crash while I was in the shower, the engraving of our Park Village house had fallen, glass broken but no damage. A Portent? If so, of what? That is always the hard bit.
I will have to think of another way to have fun, and it involves getting out of the house, especially as housework has taken a back seat this week, and I only clear the sawdust away so it doesn't get into the paint. I am delighted with the working class dark brown of the lower kitchen cupboards. I did my usual trick of using undercoat to get the iconic colour which reminds me of unpretentious old country houses with built-in pantries and benches in old plain colours, worn and comfortable and absolutely fitting. And that makes me homesick for rain, and green, and gardens.
Yesterday I had the delightful task of finding a map for the new cupboard front. This is harder than it sounds, because I need the right aspect ratio and I like plenty of water, and thrifty mapmakers shove little boxes of information into the blue areas . I settled on a Michelin map of Scotland which sadly had to end at Inverness as there was a box at that latitude, but it fits perfectly, I can see Arran and there is a lot of blue.
As my carpentry improves I am spending some time refining my earlier efforts. My toolbox has improved too, how else would I have planed down the floorboard?
I think I am active to keep darker musings at bay, the key one that the best any of us could do for the world would be to remove ourselves from it, taking as many other mortals with us as we could. This is not an integrate way of being, and I can feel the fault line in my reason which of course hurts no one but me. At the same time I love babies, and puppies, and pansies, and cities. Maybe there just isn't a need to be reasonable.
posted by Tricia Rose at 8:29 AM
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