A Rose By Any Other Name

I am working on writing my second gardening class.  On Roses.  I have all the research (well, enough to begin writing) and ideas of where I want the class to go, but getting there is sometimes a struggle.  I have been "writing" paragraphs in my head all week.  Some sounded terrific but lost their sparkle when I tried to get it down on paper.  Improv is always fresher. But terribly dangerous in front of an audience.

It is also best to have too much information, rather than, not enough.  Sigh.  The writer's life is not an easy one.  Most of all I need to get from point A to the end in a steady progression. Moving right along.  Making sense.  No side trips.  So, I work on that, mostly in my head.

Just like last night watching Smash.  Ivy, Ivy, Ivy is the better Broadway actress and singer.  She belted that song out at the end.  Karen (is that her name?) couldn't even keep up with Hudson.  She whispered.  The duet in the bar should have been with Ivy and Hudson.  And I am tired of Debra Messing. (Debra Mess) Ugh.  The ratings were very low and I think it's due to their choice of Karen over Ivy.  We watch to hear good SINGING.  I may not watch anymore, unless Karen gets hit by a bus or something.  G missed Vegas.

We have no snow cover here in Maine.   G took the lawnmower in for servicing.

I am thinking of going into the half empty workroom and making binding for two more placemats.  I was trying to remember how to attach one strip to another.  Amazing.  I seem to have forgotten everything I ever knew about quilting.  I know that the invisible thread will flummox me no end.  It always does.  If I can make and sew the binding to the placemats (already made) then I will have some hand sewing to do this evening.  Than would be nice.  Tomorrow I get my haircut.  Needs it.

Furnace man is here to clean the furnace.

An Update:  I had, somehow, top zigzagged, all the placemats (but the orange one) at some point in the past 12 months (I have no clear memory of doing it) and in my drawer of "loose ends" I found enough binding to do all four mats (I quickly dug around in the wastebasket for orange things to finish mat number four).  While I love my never ending supply of "just the right thing" in the wastebasket, today I am more in love with the "drawer of loose ends".  How clever of me to save all the extra few feet or even yards of already made binding.