Monday, January 15, 2018

A Slow Day Today

I woke this morning to order and it felt good. On Sunday I was profoundly productive.
Mertz Manor is in the studio awaiting reconstruction and the ladder is down and outside so my kitchen/office area is no longer an obstacle course. And all my shite for the studio is neatly packaged on the dining room studio.
My place has been in disorder for a long time. And messy — very messy — the cats and Sheba got into everything and tore them to bits while I was sorting all my craft supplies plus I was toting wood in several times a day through the living room leaving a trail of needles and wood chips.
The last thing I did last night was a major clean. Hence this morning’s exuberant mood — that and the fact that my new worktable is a thing of beauty.
I awoke and was instantly in high gear: Setting the fire, getting wood and feeding the pets. I stayed in high gear all day until 7:30 pm when I crashed. I went to bed at nine.
I added two coats of varnish to my worktable. It’s 4’ by 8’ of thick Birch plywood on sturdy cedar legs. It’s nice and heavy so it won’t move. And I ordered a “highchair” from Wayfair so I can do finicky work sitting down at it. But mostly I was up and down the ladder fetching and returning things to the loft and then packaging everything ready to move into the studio.
I hung things in the studio and did some yard work because it was so nice to be in sunshine. I washed the floors and did laundry.
It’s often quite dark by four o’clock but not yesterday. It felt like Spring yesterday. It was nice and bright until five o’clock and it made me look forward to Daylight Saving Time. I’m so excited about experiencing the warm months here in this beautiful space.
Today Darrell comes back to work on the tiles.  I expect he’ll finish the studio this week. Then I think Darrell he may have some work to do for other clients but soon we should be having the “big talk” about the sunroom. I’ll be curious to see what I can afford to do. I have a slow day ahead because tomorrow: Vancouver.
I’m so sad to hate going there. When I think of it, I think of English Bay. Beach Avenue was such a huge part of my life: Commuting to the yacht club every summer as a kid, commuting to UBC for four years, moving very close to it twice and visiting my friend Bruce who’s lived on it all his life.
It’s such a beautiful city. I’d love to go and just wander around on a sunny day and see some friends for lunch and dinner but it’s full of strangers and noise and for me it’s absolutely dreadful on the streets.  I endure the city; I don’t enjoy it at all.
But I love coming home.

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