Nothing to See Here

I dithered on Wednesday and Thursday, but I did get my taxes done by lunch today, and though half a day late, "our" summer holiday has started.

It was a slow financial year anyway, April 2014-March 2015; the main events were the drawing exhibition and my trip to Australia, which consumed my life from May to September, but otherwise I wove and weeded. Usually I have about 250 lines in my spreadsheet, give or take 30, but this year I had 160 and the current tax year is going to have fewer. But goodness gracious me, accounting was simpler pre-Internet shopping, there is no way I could do the whole lot in one or two days as before.

Before I got started I tried to synchronize/backup two hard drives and for yet-unknown reason the copying failed partially, (always more annoying than completely,) and I lost some files. Among them was the file in which I recorded time spent gardening. It had been developed into a somewhat "sophisticated" set of numbers; so far this year I gardened 360 odd hours, so if I slept 8 hours a day, I would have spent over 6% of my waking time weeding. Not that it means much, a garden is only as pretty as it is on a given moment, but keeping a record helped me get out more at the start. I can let it go now; I'll garden for the intrinsic pleasure of it. (In unison: big laugh.)

Tax time is like Lent; I deffer doing anything fun, interesting, or meaningful. The advantage here is I shouldn't have to wait 40 days but just get on with the job, but for example this year it was closer to 50 since I first shuffled some papers.

So during Lent, I've wanted to play with paper and paint, perhaps just apply colors, perhaps a small series, perhaps just filling all the pages in a sketchbook. I've also wanted to revisit simple print-making, it having been my favorite in school art class; and needlepoint and embroidery, both longtime favorites until I met weaving. I'm looking for a long-term, destination-unknown, non-weaving project, in addition to all others I'm supposed to be working on, active or dormant.

I'm a robust starter, but a failed finisher; this morning I saw a video on Facebook in which someone said the difference between successful and unsuccessful people was how much they finish what they started. Well, guilty as charged. Today, there's nothing to see here.

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