Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Good intentions and the road to Hell

Today I want to talk about good intention.  "They" say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.  ("They" say a lot don't they?) If this is so, I could show the Romans a thing or two.  Let me explain.  I am splendid at starting things.  I get an idea or have some inspiration, that "I can do that" moment, and I leap into action.  Sadly, if said idea is not completed in a matter of hours, requires a few sittings or generally has some form of lengthy, scary instructions, then I get into a bit of a pickle.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I finish many a project.  Projects that have required, days, if not weeks of work.  The gallery I don't yet have will be stuffed full of photos of things I have proudly finished.  Stuff that I will at some point share with you how to do.  My home is a smorgusbord of many a finished product.  These are but a few;
 Sorry for the un-groomed sofa, I just had to drag the dog off.

Now this is what you don't get to see, these are the forlorn souls tucked away in cupboards,  (This is my corner of shame). 
hiding under beds, (yes there are two matching boxes on the other side)
stuffed in drawers, trunks and boxes.  Stacked in piles, 
and generally put to one side, and depressingly this is not the half of it.



These are the ones that mock me, the ones I have lost interest in and the ones that I just plain forgot and the ones that "I have plans for".   Yes folk's, there are those good intentions.  




Last year we did a fair amount of remodelling.  All my beloved knick knacks, supplies and tools got packed up in boxes for safe keeping.  My apartment was in chaos.  There was stuff everywhere, stacked up and mocking me.  We had a baby on the way, nothing was finished, everything was covered in plaster dust and I was immobile.  It was a bloody nightmare.  Towards the end of my pregnancy all I could do is lie on the sofa and stare sadly at the space my sewing machine used to be.  I was a spectator in my own home.  Unable to participate in any form of "nesting" other than futilely try explain what I wanted.  Inactivity was torture.  I was a craft free, un-medicated, pain soaked, hormonal mess. 

Then the Monkey arrived, I learned how to walk again, her room got finished and I thought I can throw myself back into the saddle again.  "We can now concentrate on my (to be) work room and the ten thousand other unfinished jobs that have endlessly piled up" I say.  Ha who am I trying to kid?  This is the current state of my/our studio. 

Along with his many other talents, Matt is a bit handy.  He also, (along with studying, being a dad, holding down a full time job and trying to keep up with my bounding, Labrador type enthusiasm for crafts and having the patience of Job) has his hobbies.  At the moment he is building his new speakers.  He built this extension with just a wee bit of help too.  He feels about his power tools the way I feel about my sewing machine and serger.  I am not saying he is a nerd, well yes I am, but a hot AV computer nerd who got mad building skills.  So this is where I hope this summer I will move all my crap.  This will be our "shared" (mine) studio.  A child free sanctuary of creativity.  

This leads me back to our original subject (you thought I forgot huh?)  I had originally intended on starting the Bugaboo canopy covers today.   Yes, Satan, move over I am on my way.  Sadly though the screaming emanating from my teething child is making that good intention somewhat impossible today.  This posting has taken most of the day to write.  Drib's and drab's between screaming.  So on that note, I will take my headache, my child and my dog and go for a walk in the hope she finally takes a nap.  

Thanks for reading. Thanks to you there in Hong Kong, I don't know who you are or how you found me but come back and with any luck I will have more for you tomorrow. 

P.S.  If you feel like it, drop me a line or "like" me on facebook.  This is pretty much the only adult interaction I get all day, so don't be shy.

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