Thursday, November 15, 2012
Close to Nowhere
Into the fray once again
For the past couple weeks I’ve been doing something that has become a semi-regular every three or four years occurrence.
I’m cleaning my sewing room — again. I freely admit I am a slob. And when I’m sewing, it’s much worse. If I cut something off — fling — right onto the floor. If I’m looking for a piece of fabric — fling — all the fabric I’m pawing through — right onto the floor.
Sometimes, I empty a shelf looking for a particular gadget — fling — everything on the shelf — right onto the floor.
This particular binge started when someone on one of my quilting lists mentioned that she’d given away all her old paperback books because she had them on her Kindle anyway and she could put quilt stuff on the newly available shelf.
Well... fling — right onto the floor, every paperback I owned. I kept a lot of them, some books you just can’t part with. But I had about four or five kitchen garbage bags stuffed with paperbacks when I stopped flinging.
Then, I had the hardbacks. I think I gave two-three kitchen garbage bags of hardback books to the Friends of the Library for their book sale.
My bookshelf, for a bit, had two entirely empty shelves (big shelves, I might add). The entire top is still covered with (dusty, dusty) Barbie dolls. Several shelves are devoted to books either from my childhood, or my kids’ or just books that I keep because I like to look at them.
I have a shelf of Stephen King books, a shelf that has mostly religious-themed books — Bibles, books about saints and Revelations, the Christmas Story, the Easter Story, and my favorite book of all time, “The Littlest Angel.” My mom used to read that to me at Christmas. Now, nearly 60, I still cry every single time I read it.
By the time I managed to get to bed Sunday night, the two empty shelves were piled with stacks of Christmas fabric in one pile, Dick and Jane quilt fabric in another pile, Wizard of Oz fabric in another pile, several piles of assorted fabrics that will eventually be other quilts and then a shelf full of just assorted fabric.
The area behind my cutting table is empty of fabric thanks to oldest granddaughter Meredith. Most of the floor is empty of garbage and leftover stuff to go to Goodwill thanks to youngest granddaughter Remy.
I’m afraid to vacuum though — in all the flinging I’ve done, fabric has frayed, threads have come loose, odd bits and pieces are scattered here and there.
My vacuum will not live through all that. I guess I’ll have to haul in the shop vacuum. Into the fray, once again!
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