When August 1 rolls around and I begin work on my state fair projects, it is as if I enter a vortex, and while time actually continues to move forward, from where I crochet it only feels as if it is swirling about like a gentle, but ever increasing breeze that seems to keep away the things that would normally stake a claim to my time. When the state fair season ends (which for me is the moment after I turn my entries in), all of life that I managed to hold at bay comes rushing forward, each item on a long ignored list clamoring to be first, and I find that fall is in full swing.
With all of the competition of “things that need doing, but can no longer be ignored,” it can be hard to decide which is most urgent, but if I am patient, one will push its way to the top.
Such was the case today with some long suffering laundry.
So this morning, after I had gotten my son off to school, eaten breakfast, and attended to the dog, instead of sitting down to work on the cookie poncho, I washed a load of clothes. That somehow led to sweeping up several large piles of dog hair, which in its turn led to vacuuming, and before I knew it, the morning was gone.
Realizing that the rest of the day could be eaten the the things the “needed doing,” I decided to remain more focused on my crochet; I started by crocheting the foundation of 12 of the 18 remaining cookies I will need for the poncho:
I came up against a bit of a yarn wall when I decided that Red Heart Super Saver claret (I know I have some) would be the perfect to add some interest to the jam centered cookies. I entered the yarn annex certain I could find the yarn I sought, and instead came out with a couple of skeins of burgundy masquerading as claret in the feeble light of the attic annex where my yarn is housed.
I hit the same yarn wall an hour later when I went in search of the Red Heart Super Saver coffee fleck — another color I know I have.
By then it was time to head to my son’s trumpet lesson, so I packed up everything cookie poncho related and headed out. While waiting for him, I finished work on the fourth row:
When tomorrow morning dawns, the temperature will have dipped close to an historic recorded low. It will be below freezing when Clooney and I step out the door to accompany my son to the bus, and when we get back, I think I will attempt to harken back to the vortex of August to both warm my bones and get more crochet done.