A bit of art content since this blog is on the Art Ring. A collage of fabric scraps not usually found in a quilt. Corduroy, selvedge, wax crayon batik (home made) and some daisies from trim I found in a box of junk. I finally had a moment to sit at the machine and zigzag this down. Now to find an additional half hour or so to add binding. The color is true.
Some old silver plate spoons I found at Goodwill. Well used as the silver plate is worn thin at the spoon tip. I love the color shift in the silver plate patina. I may mount them on a linen covered board and frame the lot and hang them in the kitchen or dining room.
Just finished the book I was reading: Serena by Ron Rash. I wish I belonged to a book club that was reading this book as there are elements of the story I would like to discuss with someone (anyone). Which is why this post is labeled "misfit".
I just feel so out of step with the regular world. So alone. Not lonely. Solitary. Not ordinary but also not extraordinary. I wonder if this is the specific DNA for my family? My parents were happier living separate lives. My children live alone. I live inside my head.
My early report cards suggested I was not social and didn't "play well with others". I never had "best friends" in school. All my secrets stayed inside and were never shared. I never "fit".
I can spend long periods of time alone, not speaking to anyone (though I am addicted to blog communication right now, perhaps because it is silent). I am annoyed by the dog and his social needs. He interrupts constantly. I like to look. Process my environment. Sort through the things I see, hear, notice or read. My brain likes to sort.
My work environment at the greenhouse is interesting because we (employees) are all misfits. We discovered this by accident. Wondering why certain people get hired and others do not. A long time employee asked "haven't you noticed, yet, that he hires misfits?" Not that there is anything wrong with any of us. We are just original. Is that a polite way to say it? And. We all like each other. Eventually. I look forward to work and my co workers. One misfit among the many. And, as far as misfits go, we are all exceptionally good at customer service. I may be the grumpiest one of the lot, but usually it's just my "thinking face" and it isn't really an indication of grumpy-ness.
The fact that I am very good at customer service and am such a solitary person is so contradictory. Perhaps it works well because I can retreat back inside my head when I get home or do repetitious work in the greenhouse or perennial yard.
When I don't have time to spend, inside my head, sorting, I get very irritable. Ask G. He is usually the innocent bystander to my irritable outbursts. When the children lived with us, I would tend to scream at them, also. My son reminded me of this on the long car ride from Ohio. Delightful.
I am feeling particularly misfitted these days. Like a snake needing to shed it's too tight skin. I'm not sure what, exactly, is too tight and needs shedding. But it's there, pinching and irritating me. Making me less than pleasant company. Could be the lack of sun has made matters worse. I need sun to charge my batteries.
G is spraying mosquito killer on the woods so we don't get chewed to death by the blood sucking vipers. I am eying trees that I want removed to allow more wind to flow across the yard. The neighbors are up in arms about the deer eating our roses and hydrangea. They have eaten the whole side off my new plum tree (up next to the house). The deer have plenty to eat in the woods. So we have decided to challenge the covenants and build fences. The dog across the street has gone blind from diabetes. So much chaos. Not much zen.
I think I want to go shopping for a large glass container for dog food, a large French coffee press and perhaps a coffee grinder. (Target?) And the dining room table is getting a makeover. No more craft materials. It's all going back into the workroom. And I am going to draft a pattern for king size pillow cases to use some of the lovely printed fabric in the fabric closet. I love pillow cases. I especially love mixing several with an assortment of sheets. My bed always looks so "interesting". Wish I had more beds to play house with.
Playing House. That was my all time favorite "play". In Kindergarten, I had a wooden house, child size, with furniture and dishes. This is the reason I "didn't play well with others" as I wanted the house to myself, all day, every day. Later, Santa brought me my own little table and chairs, china dishes and crib for my doll. I even had a tiny stove and fridge. I'm still "Playing House".
2 comments:
If you've never played with Myers Briggs personality testing or the enneagram, get some library books about them. I would guess that you have an introverted personality - nothing at all wrong with that, it doesn't mean you don't like people, you just get energy from being alone rather than being with people. And living in your head probably means that you fit in the intuitive category. It's all normal, it's all good. I'm both introverted and intuitive too.
When I tell people I am a hermit they say "oh, no you are so good with people", meaning in my retail job. They don't realize that I can only take people around me for a certain number of hours and 10-5 was it. They blissful peace at home afterwards. I love my silent house. You are just as normal as the rest of us just like you.
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