Heyho from Planet Meg

Still here, and I still sound like I have a terrible cold, but I've been doing OK most days.
I've been needlepointing. I started casually connecting interesting bits with uninteresting filler shapes, didn't like it one bit, so I'm back to trying to fill the gaps with equally interesting shapes, which takes longer but is more satisfying.  I've also started thinking of a next piece, slightly larger, similar, maybe in the same colors give or take a couple, but with a somewhat more ordered/planned bent.
I've been knitting some nights, but it's getting longer and harder to manage; I have to fold it to shove it under the coffee table afterwards.
And look, the weaver has been weaving. I got so tired of not weaving, I threaded simply and resurrect some of my Nirvana drafts in different skinny merinos. Rather than bother with the pebbles/snow flake/night sky shenanigan. This weft is my very precious super skinny undyed merino with scale, probably the second or third last piece to be woven with this yarn as I'm really running out.
But not a lot happening here; it's hard on the body and I can't afford to work on this one halfheartedly. I have been having so much problems finding the sweet spot on my glasses, I went in for an eye check, and my lovely optometrist Julie told me although the lens prescriptions haven't changed much, both my glasses are old and one frame in particular has had it. So I'm going to look for frames in Japan suitable for a nose with no perceptible bridge; these are hard to come by here, as you can imagine, and a couple of times they had "Asian models" sent from overseas, once from Vienna, but there's not much choices. Jim can fit the correct lens here later.

The follow-up screen print workshop scheduled for last weekend got moved to early October due to low interest, but I keep fiddling with prints I made, one's I started but haven't finished, and also making new backgrounds.

Bigger accomplishment has been tidying the hellebore patch, which looked good 11 days ago, and has been satisfying. The cold wet winter did them a favor and I have more flowers than last year, but still find the infant mortality rate too high. It's getting warmer, we have more sun, and it keeps raining every now and then, so weeding the patch, not to mention the rest of the place, is pure Kafka. Power tools, little people, dogs and balls are definitely coming back outside. I miss winter already; I hadn't appreciated the quiet enough.

I culled my books, had friends over to have a look and take them away, which was successful considering many of my books were much older than I imagined, and in the end I held on to most of the art books and exhibition catalogues. I even put back "some" language-related books on the shelves, and put some weaving and somewhat-related books up for adoption here. The stash room feels roomier, but that's mostly due to stuff off the floor. Even after I redistribute all books and magazines by any means possible, about a shelf's worth of van Gogh books still need a shelf, books are still too tightly fitted sometimes many fall out when I pull out one, and at least one big box of wool need to come up from downstairs.

Answer: weave.

The best part of book purge has been the company of friends; I've been in touch with many and have seen some I hadn't for some time. Sally wanted to see the looms so we moseyed on downstairs and I went far beyond the usual "this is how a loom works" spiel. And we had some lovely book and art talk upstairs; Alain de Botton got more than a few mention but I missed the start of the conversation and was never quite sure what it was about.

I also love that we had a really good cleaning session a while back; Ben was scheduled to work that weekend so his only duty was cheesecake, but work was cancelled so we cleaned the house with gusto, which he didn't enjoy. It might even have been the first time we had many friends over at once since... Christmas Eve 2004??? We had gotten rid of many chairs for me to reclaim the floor so it was humorous at times; Ben wanted to buy  a love seat or a couch for the gathering but I'm glad we didn't. (We still might because the current love seat is too short for Ben to lie down on.)

What else? All the weight Ben and I lost in 2017, we've found and then some. I've been saying we need to get back on board with the virtually-no-carbo diet, but it's up to me, and I haven't. It's harder in the cold winter; carbo is comforting.

Ben and I are taking Mom to Matsuyama, close to Grandpa's home town, in Shikoku, and my favorite cousin the elder is coming with us; her dad was mom's older brother but passed away at a ridiculously young age. I'm the short-tempered travel agent, and I should not consult Mom on everything because the trip is shaping up to be what Ben and I envisioned would be easiest and most pleasurable at the start, in Feb, i.e. to stay put and operate from a hub. Instead, because I try to please everybody, I'm perpetually looking things up and changing bookings and boy, can Mom change her mind!!

I should know by now not to deal with Mom the way I did with Dad. (Textbook control-freak but decisive.) I try not to take to heart her every casual whim but I'm not composed enough while Ben's and my cousin have built-in, hardcore laid-back-ness. Thank goodness. Nevertheless, I'm aware this could be Mom's last long trip, and I do so desperately want to make it as memorable and pleasurable to her as I can, so it's a balancing act between asking/listening and using my judgement, which turns out to be right more often than I give myself credit for.

Except yesterday. I made the wrong call. Skype day today, and time to correct it, and I'll pay the cancellation fees.

I think I'll go weave some before that.