What to do next?!

Source: TACLUDA

One of the curses of a migraine life is that it must be lived indoors, away from the light, in nearly complete silence.

The only joy of such a life is a focused expression.  Whether it is writing or some other creation, the scope is narrowed and intense.

Think of a funnel.  Pour a liquid in the broad end and forcing it to condense, collapse in order to exit a narrow port.  Kinda sounds like giving birth, which I guess in a sense it is.

Writing is one joy, when I can retrieve the words from a reluctant brain that hurts intensely.  Samuel and Adventures in the Sock Drawer are part of that joy.

For Benjamin

Colors and color combination.  Working with shapes.  Putting them in a pleasing, exciting pattern is the reward. Sewing and quilting is that reward.

For Eli (still in progress)

For Aimee

For Benjamin

Wall hanging for Erin (unfinished when photo was taken)

Obviously, I have had many migraines.

For me

But I have much joy.

P.S.  There are other quilts, but could not locate my photos. Dang.

Christmas returns to the Sock Drawer

Christmas in the Sock Drawer returned with much celebration.  The glimmer of hope felt after the Massacre of July ’12 now burst into full flame. 

Like most good things, the flame came unexpectedly.  One day the sock organizer had been torn from the drawer and the socks had been dumped back in the drawer to co-mingle and become reacquainted.  Then soon thereafter…

The Wool Argyle from a Seattle trip remembered it best, relating the story to every new addition to the Sock Drawer.  “The drawer opened slowly with the slant of light blinding us all.  Then from the light tumbled all manner of old friends, now reunited with their beloved mates…”

Apparently, all the lost socks had been put aside until some gentle old person had sorted through the mound, reconnecting long parted socks.  Only a few lonely socks had remained behind in the basket, hoping for their own return.

“There they were:  gold toes, Easter flowers, Halloween pumpkins, ragged crew tops, and compressions!  All had been tied together, joined once again.  Oh, the glory!  You socks fresh from Kohl’s and JCPenney’s will find what it means one of these days…”

Socks awaiting their fate

So it was on Christmas Eve that the new Christmas socks were surrounded by all the Sock Drawer inhabitants.  The glow-in-the-dark Halloween socks illuminated the dark space as the elderly surgical sock with the rubberized chevrons came forward and announced the blessing on all present.

The Argyle sighed.  “…unfortunately, surgical sock had returned alone to the drawer, despite being tied with her mate.  Apparently, there was talk of his indiscretions with the lone lacey trouser sock.  He never made it back to the drawer, poor sod…”

All was well.

For previous adventures in the sock drawer:
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2012/11/return-to-drawer-of-sock.html
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2012/08/massacre-in-sock-drawer.html
and
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-in-sock-drawer.html

Win and Flo get married, pt. 2

Win proceeded with his idea.  “What if we waited until they all leave, and then…” 

With that the front door opened, and the garrulous group rumbled out the door.  Uncle Floyd was still wearing a neck brace and Sister Anuncia sported a wire jaw halo until the bones healed.  When all were slamming their car doors, Great-grandmother Alice hobbled out on her cane. 

Flo jumped to her aid.  “Grammy, won’t you stay home and leave all this to the rest of the family?”

Alice harrumphed and shook her head.  “Why, certainly not!  Your pa needs me and this here cane.  Why, we can clear a room if need be.  Gotta make myself heard…stupid girl…” and Alice muttered all the way to her Dodge Ram pick-up.

Grammy's truck per Wikipedia

Then there was quiet in the house and along the street.  Residents had followed the two clans to watch what would happen when the two tried to decide on the venue for the reception.  Some had packed up lawn chairs and picnic baskets.

Win laid out his plan for her.  “Your trousseau—is it packed and ready?”

“Mama packed it the day you proposed at the church picnic, nearly two months ago…it’s in the garage, along with a trunk of cutlery, pots and pans…”

“Listen, Flo.  I can’t take any more of this and neither can you.  What if we…” and Win explained his idea.  Flo hugged him tightly.  While she changed into a nice church dress, Win lugged the trunks and boxes into the truck bed.

That was when the neighbor Joe Hicks sauntered from his back yard.  Win started at this unexpected complication.  Before Win could sputter a word, Joe raised his hand.  “Heck, Win, that’s about the first smart thing I ever seen you do.  You and Win Flo get outta here, leave these nuts to figure out what happened.  That’ll take ‘em about three days ‘fore they notice you two’d gone.”  He paused to spit.  “After Floyd took out the nun, I d’cided you two deserved better.”

Winthrop's truck per Wikipedia

With that, Joe helped Floyd load up as Flo stepped out onto the porch, a vision to behold.  Flo climbed up into Ford F-250 as Joe shook Win’s hand.  They roared out of town, taking the back roads across two state’s lines.

Sample marriage license per Wikipedia

They found a justice of the peace, got married and moved into a hotel where they didn’t emerge for a good solid week.  During intervals from unbridled sex, Win found a good job from the classifieds and Flo rented an apartment.  The trousseau contained all the money the family had planned to spend on the wedding, which was a goodly amount.  Her dad had been saving up for her wedding her entire life.

Once they were settled, Win drove over to a third state and sent a telegram to the families, which basically told them that Win and Flo were married, gainfully employed, and would contact them once they were settled.

Which took about three years.