Figuring out where to start after such an absence is hard. I can’t just jump back in and pretend it never happened; I feel like I need to bring you up to date—but so much has happened in the past year and a half.I suppose I need to short story it. We moved. We thanked god. We were—and still are—deeply grateful. (STILL before I fall asleep some nights I’m thinking thankyouthankyouthankyou.)
We started sleeping like babies. We loafed and biked and picnicked and played with our kitten. We enjoyed the views out of all fourteen windows in our little house that has no shared walls, or even property lines.
I found work. I’m an executive assistant at a small, locally-owned company. I find myself working to live, rather than living to work. I work 9:30-5, and I find time around the edges to spend time with my cat and my man, and to enjoy the hell out of where I’m living.
We’re still doing many of the same things. Our cat is super-spirited, and takes a lot of our time. We play with him almost every day—he plays hard and long—and take him for hours-long walks at the huge churchyard across the street two or three times a week. (We live on a thoroughfare; he is an indoor cat.)
It took Matt some time to get used to it, but after several months of outright friendliness from strangers, spontaneous conversations starting up in grocery store lines, and some serious hours in Upper Park on a new bike, he seems to be happy. He tells me he is, and I believe him.I cook a lot more than I used to. I’m losing weight and riding my bike to work and around town regularly.
Focusing on all that, I sadly haven’t focused on textiles much. I miss them, and every so often I get a stab of inspiration and remember “Oh, yeah, I was going to do this and this and this.” But being in the studio means I’m away from the man and the cat, and I’m already away from them so much at work, it’s hard to motivate myself. And then there just isn’t that much time.
So what to do? Well, we’re working it out. On the list is introducing Chunk Marvelle to the studio and seeing if he can handle it or if he’ll disembowel everything he sees.
It might take a few more years of maturity, it might take some rearrangements of goods. Maybe I’ll stake him out in the middle of the room.