Interesting Times...

Somehow life always manages to remind me of that old Chinese curse: "May you live in interesting times."

It is interesting, but I'd give my eye teeth for it to be boring right now.  My perspective has suffered a little warping lately, and I'm working to get it back into true.

What am I rambling on about?  Fire.  I think some of you have seen my post on MAIDA, so forgive the cross-posting.  There's a wildfire in our area that's been burning since Saturday afternoon...and is still not under control.  They're managing well, considering the winds over the last several days, and the idiocy of fame-seekers with camera drones that shut down fire control efforts. 

We are currently under "pre-evac" status, meaning we need to be packed and ready to evacuate at a moment's notice.  Well, we got packed yesterday, made arrangements to bring our elderly next door neighbor with us if it gets to that point, and then...settled in to wait.  Don't get me wrong--if I get to chose between waiting and evacuating, I'll pick waiting every time!  But it is a little tense.  The fire seems to have shifted away from our area, indeed away from most any of the more populated areas...a fact for which we are so grateful.  So we are cautiously optimistic that in a day or two, they'll have the worst of it out, and we can go back to normal life.  (I am disinclined to thaw anything else out for dinner, so the hubby might get a little bored with leftovers all in a row!)

All this has made me think about the vagaries of disaster preparedness.  I grew up in Tornado Alley (north Texas), so tornadoes are what I default to when thinking of running for cover.  A massive tornado came through our town on April 10, 1979, when I was sixteen, and our house was completely destroyed--with us in it.  This pretty much set the tone for my lifetime of what to expect. 

But later in my life, I moved with my military husband to Eglin, AFB, where I got to know several hurricanes on a first-name basis.  Charlie, Francis, Ivan, and Dennis, to name a few. 

Here's the thing...

With a hurricane, you have a LONG time to get ready, because the weather folks see it coming.  So you pack your stuff and get out with plenty of life-saving time.  The problem is you can't take everything, so you're left trying to figure out what is important enough to warrant space in the vehicle.  And what is not.  And you mourn the possible loss of what you're leaving behind.  It's awful--this sadness and preoccupation with Stuff.  It's natural, but still awful. 

With a tornado, you get almost no warning.  So you either run across town to a good friend's tornado cellar (if you're lucky) or you go hide against the bed with the mattress pulled down across you--like we did when I was sixteen.  BUT.  When you crawl out of the cellar (or out from under the mattress), you have survived.  You might have lost everything you own, but you're so happy to be alive, who cares?  We're alive!!!

This fire has been much like the hurricane.  We have loads of time to get out...but we've had to take stock of what to bring, what to leave, and sit around waiting for possible evac orders, and thinking, "I wonder if I'll ever see all this again?" 

To be honest, I think the tornado warning is the lesser of two evils.  Stuff is just...stuff.  But I'd sure miss my doll collection.  And all the craft stuff I've gathered over the years.  And our comfy sleep-number bed.  See what I mean? 

A "Just Want To" Project...

I got a copy of the Sundance catalog in the mail today...a drool-worthy collection of (expensive) clothes, jewelry, shoes, etc. Browsing through it, and intending to throw it away as usual, it occurred to me that I will keep it. Not to order from, but as inspiration for my own jewelry making inspiration!

With tons of bits and bobs gathered in the studio, I could probably make a piece of jewelry every day for a year and not run out.

But...have I made any in the last couple of years? NO! Why? Because I get busy doing other stuff, working on dolls, or (admit it...) just watching TV in the evenings. 

So over the next few months, I will make a concerted effort to play in the silver and beads a few nights a week and see what I come up with.

What is the one project you would do if you could / would carve out a couple hours a week to do it?

My ridiculous cat...

Her name is Willie, and she's just plain weird.  As cats can be, you know.

One afternoon a few weeks ago, the hubs was resting on the bed when he heard a strange sliding sound.  It was coming from under the bed--like the monsters we feared in our childhoods.  He looked down on his side, and a box had begun to appear, sliding in jerky motions further and further out from under the bed skirt. 

Apparently, my cat has decided that the empty box I keep under the bed for dolls (useful when heading to a doll show, but usually empty) is one of her favorite toys.  So periodically, she will push and shove this box around until she has it where she wants it, and then go elsewhere. 

Today we found it in front of the master bathroom door.  Weird cat. 

She's currently dozing in her too-small basket that's attached to the wooden pony-wall around the hub's office. 

Recouperating (or..."poor me").

Last weekend, I volunteered at an educational event at our local museum.  It was a Folk Art Fair, in which we all dress in 19th cent garb (or an approximation thereof) and demonstrate/discuss our art with the public.  Of course my booth was about dolls--how they were made, the kinds available, etc.

 

So either I got a bug of some kind Saturday, or it had been stewing a while before that, but by Sunday, I was none too sprightly.  By Tuesday, the fever was 103 and I was in trouble.  Wednesday's doc appt confirmed pneumonia.  Yuck. 

It caused me to miss THIS weekend, which was not a volunteer gig, but a Folk Art Fair for which I paid dearly--non-refundable, of course.  But priorities have to make sense, and besides that, there is no way I could have stood up under a show weekend, even if I had been dumb enough to try.

After a couple days' antibiotics, I am better.  Sad for the husband, because I can (sort of) talk again, so his silent reprieve has come to an end.  I think I've taken my health for granted, so spoiled have I been to not having a fever.  At any rate, I'm on the mend, and looking forward to getting busy again.  I have a booth fee to make up for!