Must Be September.

Apparently I woke up to the alarm this morning, exclaiming OH MY GOD. It didn’t feel like long enough. Also I didn’t sleep well, which often happens on a Sunday night. Pre-school Oh-Shits. Although I’m still adjusting to just one thing that I’m teaching, I need to often prep for two things. Like all last week. And this week. This week is meeting hellacious. Two hours today…thought it might run shorter, but no…literacy in the second half. It’ll go until the end of the 2-hour mark. Then union meeting on Wednesday (2 hours), sex-ed curriculum on Thursday AND Friday, plus Back-to-School Night on Thursday (many hours total). Not sure why this week has to be hell. And the girlchild is coming to visit this weekend, which is awesome, but her room is a disaster and it’s all my fault. And the parentals are coming home. It’s just chaos. Today after the two hours of meetings, I have three places I have to go to pick up mail, buy slats, etc. Art to deliver over the weekend, need to get it ready. And it feels like nothing got done this weekend.

Must be September. My brain knows that by the end of this month, routines will be better, all the extras that school likes to throw at you will have adjusted, and the weather will probably have calmed the fuck down. It was hot yesterday. However, the end of this month is quite a ways away and I’m not sure I will get there unscathed.

Did I mention I drove to LA on Saturday? Yeah, it was our California Fibers’ Influences/Influencers exhibit at Craft in America. I had one piece in the show and all everybody could say was, “That’s the smallest piece I’ve ever seen of yours.” Well, yeah, it’s 16×20″. But it has over 800 pieces in it.

Obligatory selfie…

Wall of pieces: Doshi on the left, Marilyn McKenzie Chaffee, then Charlotte Bird, then me.

So you can see it really is small. I gave her two or three other choices that were bigger. It’s OK…it’s a cool piece.

It was a busy opening eventually. It’s a pain driving to LA though. I left at 10:30 AM, sat in a cafe and graded for a bit, then after the opening, got home at 8 PM. Lost day, really. Felt exhausted by the end of it. I know the LA members of our group love shows up there and I can see why: all their friends and family can come. Ah well. It’ll be up for a while…through December 2. You should check it out!

Around all that, I cut stuff out. Not a ton, but an hour and a bit a night.

Friday night…doesn’t look like much.

Saturday night looks like more…

Two episodes of something instead of one. I’m rewatching the Sherlock series Elementary, because I don’t think I saw them all. I was watching Madam Secretary, but the real politics are too close and I needed a break after the first season. In the middle box are all the pieces I’ve cut out. The bottom is what still needs cutting. Because I put them in there in the order I ironed them down, they are pretty much in backwards numerical order. So I can kind of keep track of how far I’ve gotten. That’s the Supreme Court building I see there.

I got all of that cut out last night, along with most of Roberts. Not his robes…all the robes are further down. But that’s Sotomayor’s hair right there. So I’m somewhere in the 1400-1500s, but the robes aren’t done yet. So maybe 500 pieces cut out. Cutting out is usually faster than ironing. I don’t have to think deeply about cutting out…I just do it. Ironing requires thought. Well ironing to fabrics does…ironing it together, you just follow the pattern and the numbers.

I spent about 6 hours working for school yesterday. So yeah, things aren’t settled or pretty yet. Not sure when they will be. It’s my fault, because I could just copy shit the way it’s handed to me, but I know how my kids learn, and so I’m editing from that perspective. Which sometimes means retyping stuff. I did (not) have help…

Thanks Nova. I think she knocked down my very important post-it too.

Sigh. Feed me dinner, lady.

OK. I will. Get up off the couch and do the things (this was Friday night. I napped when I got home.).

Today. Long. Cutting things out sits at the end.

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