If this rain doesn't stop. I feel like the Grinch, "Sinking slowly into madness...."
I'm beginning to think I may have to move to Arizona. Which is a terrible thought for someone who loves trees and mountains and water but I NEED SUN.
I feel like I'm wading through water. I still managed to get plenty done, washing, dishes, studio work including some fine silver reclamation with my rolling mill, cooked a turkey, amused the boys, worked on a crochet project, paced around, looked out the windows, checked the mail three times, wiped 8 wet feet and two wet bellies more times than I care to remember, looked out the window some more. I know, bores me too.
I think it's the lack of exercise, our usual is a couple of miles so going without makes me feel sluggish and wired up, all at once. Tomorrow we'll make up for it.
The turkey was good though, with dressing and a nice salad. Now I can make turkey sandwiches with a little mayo and a lot of mustard. I even bought the really yellow stuff, which is best on turkey sandwiches.
Reclaiming fine silver is fun. I keep each tiny piece and then torch those pieces into a big blob. Then the blob gets fed through the rolling mill, once or twice and then back to the torch and so on until it's a nice piece of sheet. Once I had a nice chunk of sheet I ran it through the mill again with linen, punched a bunch of discs, drilled a hole in the center and polished them up. I've got a lot of really beautiful lampwork beads that look great with the silver discs or bead caps. I'll tumble them up tomorrow and take pics to post. I dislike pictures under lighting, natural light just seems more true.
I've been contemplating the art of conversation. Since I've moved away most of my interactions have been on the phone, wonderful but lacking in the essential element of face time. On this cold rainy day I found myself craving some conversation, some company, some human interaction. I've been guarding my alone time, building up a base of security in my little treehouse. Now I'm looking to head out and gather up some company, some friends to cook for and to laugh with. By spring I hope to have regular company on my deck for sunset watching.