You know what they say about all work and no play, right? Well, that seems to have been written about me. My boss is still in trial (but hopefully will finish tomorrow) and I've continued to work a fair bit of overtime when I'm not suffering from stomach flu or spending the weekend at home. (I don't mind staying late on week nights, but I find I really, really need my weekends off to unwind.)
And I've been singularly unproductive during what would normally be my "play time." I know you've seen some of the symptoms--like my being stuck and unable to decide where to go next on the applique quilt. I also have a small vintage-image transfer panel with an Easter theme, and I've been struggling to come up with a pieced border idea for that to no avail. Quilter's block, I guess you could say, but not in a good way.
Now I'm not complaining, exactly--it's more that I want to explain why I don't have much in the way of inspiration to pass on to you right now.
I know that sometimes I go through periods where I want to spend more time reading than sewing, and it may be that I've cycled into one of those times now. Then there's that stomach bug I had last week--who in their right mind feels very creative amid nausea and stomach cramps?
I thought I might be a little more inspired to create on Sunday. I spent a good deal of time over the weekend grocery shopping and cooking meals ahead of time, and I thought once I'd finished that, I'd be able to retire to the Sweat Shop for some quality quilty time, but it didn't turn out that way.
The last cooking endeavor of the day was frying up a batch of egg rolls--my family loves them, I wanted to use up some leftover cabbage, and I've been experimenting off and on the last several months, trying to recreate the egg rolls (lumpia) that a Filipino woman I work with makes. I've almost gotten the filling down; next I need to figure out how she makes the wrappers. Anyway, as I was lifting egg roll number five out of the hot oil with a slotted spoon, it rolled back off and into the pan, splattering hot oil all over my left hand. Ouch! (You're right: That's not really what I said at the time.)
Soooooooooo . . . I didn't much feel like sewing after that.
I didn't exactly go to the doctor for my burned hand, although I DID just happen to have an Ob/Gyn appointment on Monday morning, so I waved my hand in front of the doctor while I was there. I suspect she's more used to rug burns than hot oil burns, but she took a quick look and advised me to cover the burn on my thumb--the one bearing a blister that rivals the size of the thumb itself--with a dressing. Now I look a bit like Little Jack Horner except MY thumb is white and not plum.
Anyway, with the luck I've had lately, reading seems a bit safer, even if it does make me a little dull. I'll try to think of something more exciting to entertain you with, but it will need to be something I can do while wearing a helmet and protective padding, because I don't think I can stand any more physical insults right now. In fact, I think it's time for Tylenol, tea, a book, and my bed.