Sometimes I Forget That I'm a Smart Person

There was the time I made cookies, and got a phone call halfway through, which was sufficiently distracting that I forgot to add the eggs, and made 6 dozen totally inedible chocolate chips.

There was the time (ok...times) that I got on the wrong freeway, or the wrong bridge, because I was thinking about going one place and actually trying to go another place.

There's this one woman in my field, and every time I speak to her, I morph into Little Miss Profane and have only one time in all the times we've spoken about my work said anything remotely intelligent. I have, on the other had, used the F-word every time we speak.

I'm reasonably certain that most people are afflicted by this disease where we temporarily forget years of schooling, or a lifetime of common sense, and end up feeling foolish. On the good days, we can laugh it off. On the bad days, we should just go to bed until such a time comes when we can laugh it off.

I've been making good progress on the "start and finish a small project." Connie responded that grad school felt a lot like the feelings I expressed earlier in the week. If you could just have a few small projects to complete, you could feel like you were making progress. But, instead, you've got this monstrosity of a project and can be reasonably certain that it's going to take a while. Two whiles, even.

I mean, plants can solve this problem fairly readily. Want a small plant project? How about ten blueberries? (That's all we've got this week, but they sure are yummy.)



The corn has it figured out: let's set a modest goal of "knee high by the fourth of July". The zucchini takes a "let's conquer the entire vegetable patch" approach. The cilantro seems to be growing straight up. The tomatos went from sprouts to bushes almost overnight. In the garden, these small problems are solved effortlessly.



Sewing offers greater satisfaction in less time than knitting (most of the time...when I remember how smart I am) It was an easy decision to sew something small and useful. My trip to Fabric Depot was fun (though it's so hard to make decisions), and once all the pieces were ready to go together, I was working happily in the basement. And it was fast, and I have this fabulous new purse to show for it:





I learned all sorts of new stuff, too. Interfacing. Fusible fleece (to make the handles squishier). Sewing on piping. Magnetic closures. Box Stitch.

It was totally satisfying, and it was just what I needed.

I had some leftover stripey fabric, and some leftover polka dot fabric, and some interfacing. I found a lobster claw key fob thingy in the garage, and decided to make a little key purse with a handle that I could clip to the purse (or to whatever, really). Bought a zipper, stitched it all together. Turned it right side out, checked to make sure the zipper worked (it did), that all the seams were sewn and reinforced (they were), then realized that the strap was sewn between the lining and the outer fabric. I don't how how I missed that. I like writing 'the strap was sewn' because the passive voice makes me less accountable for forgetting, once again, that I am a smart person.