I have been thinking of a couple of my friends this week, who have had just way more grief, this year, than anyone should have to bear. My words are inadequate when talking to them and I am ashamed by my own current funk.
We have heard from so many friends this week. They are all so supportive and eager to visit once this god forsaken pandemic is over with. At the end of the day we are so lucky to have really the best of the best in our lives. We can hardly wait for their return and, when we watch ‘Nadiya Bakes’ on Netflix, we wonder if we should make her cupcakes for them.
When we first bought our property ten years ago we were warned that the roof on the studio needed to be replaced. The project had become urgent last winter when gaping holes appeared in the shake roof above the bins of tools and construction supplies. Never good when peanut butter jars of nails and bits become filled with the rain water falling through the roof.
Sure, we put a couple of tarps on the roof last September, which we had leftover from the reno project. But they were ripped to shreds by the unusually windy winter we had last year. It was obvious we couldn’t put it off any longer. This must be the year we put a new roof on the studio.
But then someone, who shall remain nameless, really wanted a greenhouse. So, the studio roof project was rescheduled until next year. The upside to a four month drought is that we haven’t had to think about the roof until now. We have huge rains expected this month and probably for the rest of the winter. Honestly, you can stand inside the studio, and see the blue sky through the roof. Personally, I would like to torch the thing and get rid of it but apparently E thinks his tools deserve a home out of the weather. So we bought a new tarp. A $115.00 new roof, if you will. It was a miracle E didn’t fall through the roof when he took the old ones off and put the new one on. I am aware that the area around the studio is reminiscent of the Clampett’s old house. You can see why I want to burn it all down.
I have begun a new quilt. This one is for my daughter. It was pointed out to me this summer that the quilt I started for her five years ago is unfinished and I have made not one, but two, for my granddaughter, in the meantime. In my defense I don’t like the quilt I started for her. So I think I will turn it into a couple of dog beds. The baby quilt I made last week is on its way to the baby. I will show you a pic once she gets it. I like quilting. I prefer gardening, but I like quilting.
I was very fortunate to marry a man who loves musicals as much as I do. I think our favourite, until tonight, was Les Mis. I can’t tell you how many times we have seen it. But E stumbled across a copy of “Come from Away” today and thought it might cheer me up. We watched it tonight. What a great show. I didn’t stop smiling and crying the whole time. I had goosebumps from the minute it started. I could watch it again and again and I know our friends on the island will love it.
I am ready to put my funk behind me. The ugly is washed away and I am ready to move forward with the anticipation of a vaccinated future with all of the friends in our life whom we hold oh so dear.
Enough is Enough