aka “Do you want a cork for that whine?”
All my crazy is all my own fault. No matter which direction I turn, there are sirens calling, “Do this! Do that! You can do it! Take on another project! More! More! More!”
I accumulate… crafty projects and writing projects and volunteer stuff and, of course, the never-ending house maintenance and decorating projects.
And then you are moving too fast and get careless and break your arm by taking a flying leap off a spaghetti light and need surgery and then endless sessions of physical therapy.
Normal American daily life stuff that is kind of… banal… but kind of… miraculous, the lifeblood of your very life.
But which also is sisyphean (yes, I had to look up how to spell that) and all my own doing because I really don’t *need* to take on a bunch of it.
… There are those sirens calling, “Do this! Do that! You can do it! Take on another project! More! More! More!”
And now, to keep up with Katiedynamodoodle, I have a vintage estate sale dollhouse of my own to decorate.
Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have recently completed a project begun in the 1970s–“The Unicorn in Captivity,” a very large crewel piece designed by Erica Wilson. Like Susie Q’s grandma, I had it sitting around for decades. I moved it six times: from East Haven, CT to Birmingham, AL, to three houses in New Haven, CT, to Cheshire, CT, and finally to my current 1959 ranch in the wilds of New London County. I sat looking at the walls in my new living room and said, “Hmm–I think I saw that nearly finished crewel picture in the attic.” It took me only a week to finish it and another week to have it framed, and I felt stupid that I hadn’t done it before. But it was almost as though it hadn’t had a place before so it didn’t call to me from the closet.
Among the 100 or so projects tucked away in attic and basement and closets are Marimekko fabric imported from Finland last year to make new sofa pillows, fabric for a valance and placemats to go in my new (2012) dining room in colors to complement my collection of Canonsburg china, and a pair of half-embroidered pillowcases that no longer go with any bedroom in my house. I think in that case I am going to spend an evening in front of the TV picking out the floss and re-embroider it in colors I like and need.
But the absolute worst is fabric and a pattern for a maternity dress I wanted to make my daughter when she was pregnant with her first child–that child is now 22 years old. 🙂
I once had a web site that sold doll house kits. The Victorian kit I wanted was $360. And that’s why I still don’t have a doll house.
Honestly, I don’t even see this as needing THAT much work! I think it’s lovely as is (in fact I’m quite envious). Just search for vintage furniture on ebay and call it good. BTW, I have quite a few dollhouses of varying sizes and eras
oh but…. I don’t do things the easy way!