Holy Guacamole! This is to explain the neglect of my blog, ravelry, yada yada yada. Excuses, excuses…oh the horror!
With a divorce pending and a somewhat tolerable(but not preferable) cohabitation situation, it seemed that feng shui-ing the joint, or some such thing, would perhaps facilitate what is now not destined to be a quick real estate sale. Our home has had almost 7,000 internet hits since it was put on the market over 15 months ago, when I realized that I was never going to have the domestic situation that I wanted with the mess I was in. Unfortunately, the encouraging internet numbers have not translated into live, in the flesh, showings.
To answer the FAQ’s: I moved into the guest bedroom 15 months ago, when I came to the sudden realization that things were not better after 19 years, that they would never be better, and that yes, intelligent, well-educated women are as susceptible to domestic abuse as the “uneducated, poverty stricken gals who stay with their abusers” stereotypes.
‘Nuff said. I will now stick to my promise to myself that I will not bore blog readers with those particular gory details.
Anyway, the worst area of the house was my studio. What a fricking mess! Being cursed with the packrat gene, I had papers out the wazoo and quasi-organized files. These included seemingly innumerable stacks of manila folders stuffed with all manner of magazine waste(ie: previously “valuable” information that I couldn’t, at some point, live without), random papers, and just a lot of unusable junk, not to mention the stacks of printed-from-internet patterns, articles, yada yada yada.
Oh yeah, and then there were the mountains of entire magazines that I couldn’t get rid of because they contained at least ONE sentence of “relevant, not-to-be-forgotten” BS that would totally enrich my life when I read it again. F*#&!!! What the h#&% was I thinking during the time period of 1988-2000. 2000 was the earliest year in my beloved “research files” in which I seemed to have some semblance of what I would now consider good taste. It seems that one’s taste evolves over time. But bloody hell, when did I ever consider tole painting?
After going through my carefully preserved “files”, I threw away at least 9/10ths of yellowed magazine recipes, pictures, articles and the like. Approximately 30 magazines remain in stacks to be perused, more articles ripped from their rightful homes and filed, only to be examined in another 20 years, deemed outdated and tossed into the proverbial bonfire. A right modern ”book burning”, if you will!
Then, on to the out-of-control fabric stash, begun in 1998, and the totally horrifying mess of a yarn stash. I could go on and on about that fright, but the chronicle would amount to intolerable cruely, on my part, to you, and dredging up memories best forgotten, for me. We won’t even get into the shelves stuffed with notions and thread and just general crap, much of which ended up in the garbage pile. I mean, really, who needs every cardboard candy box, or plastic Christmas ornament box from the previous 10 years to use for storage or putting gifts in. The cigar boxes, however, did come in handy to store random fine fibers and threads, sewing machine feet, yada yada yada.
Anyway, as the little exorcisty lady with the wierd voice in the movie Poltergeist said, “This house is clean”! Maybe not as clean as all that, but exponentially better than it was.
The bottom line is this…my house needed to be properly cleaned for showings and open houses, and, out of frustration with my inability to figure out the downloading of pictures to “unboring” my blog up, I had to take a hiatus from blogging. If I figure out how to do the picture thing, I will add pictures to this entry and the others. Hey Yarn Bearer, you gotta save me with this picture thing! Please…come over and handfeed the procedure to me! Otherwise, I’m doomed to boring blogsville!
SITE TEMPORARILY CLOSED FOR TECHNOLOGICAL UPDATES!
