In contact with an old friend in the business, who reached out to me last night to ask if I’d write a continuity/disaster recovery plan for his business. I gave him a bid, and he’ll be getting back to me soon, one way or the other. I find myself distinctly neutral–oh, I’ll absolutely do it for him; it will take me at most a couple of days and a some research, plus sitting down with them for an hour or two to get the bits of information I have to have. I’ll enjoy it, actually, and it will be the best it can possibly be, and satisfy all governmental and other requirements for the document.
The irony, and of COURSE there is irony–I apparently live at the corner of north irony and southbound mule these days–comes from the fact that the one thing I find myself utterly uninterested in doing these days is writing. Creative writing that is, as opposed to technical writing. I belong to a writers’ group that would probably actually like to see my face on occasion, whether virtually or otherwise, and since I’m not writing, I don’t go… And no, I don’t count this blog. Not sure what that says about me.
However, what is truly flipping all my creative switches at the moment is design. I’ve dabbled in it some, with designing furniture which my husband built with me and made into reality. In fact, the purse shown above is hanging on the hall tree we created. The purse is also of my design, and completely of my making. The spurring event was that I actually broke down and bought a grown-up woman’s wallet, and needed something to put it in. I’ve always carried a wallet that would fit in the back pocket of my jeans. The only time I actually carried a purse was to smuggle a bottle of water and some string cheese into movie theatres… sorry, but I’m NOT paying $4 for a 50-cent bottle of water. Anyway, the two purses I actually own are both ugly as sin… and when I complained about that, my husband shrugged and said, “So make one.” So I did.
The ickiest thing about purses is that we drag them everywhere, set them down on floors, bathroom counters, etc., and there’s no way to clean most of them. So the first requirement was that it would have to be washable. Second one was that, if I got tired of looking at the design, I didn’t want to have to go make or buy another purse, so I really wanted it to be reversible, with a completely different look inside. So I made it that way. There are some things I want to add into the design, including integrated pockets for cellphones and/or reading and sunglasses, but that will be on the second one that I’m working on now.
Oh, and I’m in the middle of putting together a queen-sized quilt. When I hit a snag on the purse thing, I go back to the quilt for a bit, which is more straightforward. The design process… That’s where my mind stays these days. When I’m silent, that’s probably what I’m thinking about. What’s most fascinating about this to me is that for decades of my life, I’ve refused to carry a purse, even when I probably needed to… now thoughts about their design occupy a fair part of my waking life. Irony…
One of my all-time favorite authors, Spider Robinson, through one his characters, said: “If a person who indulges in gluttony is a glutton, and a person who commits a felony is a felon, then God is an iron.” And of course, because I apparently cannot escape the concept today… in order to quilt anything well, you better know how to iron. I’ve probably used an iron and ironing board more in the last few months than I have since I first went in the military and had to iron everything all the way down to my t-shirts.
I’m going to go turn on some loud music and work out and quit thinking about anything except the music and the sweating. I think all this solitude may be making me loopy. Onward and upward, peoples.