How Do I Make New Quilting Squares ?

There just has to be a way for me to start making new quilting squares.  The old ones seem to just wear on me.  Actually… they’re wearing me down.

What’s the secret ?  Will Stephanie help me find the secret ?  My Secret ?

I have these damn “defining moments” that seem to “root” me.  And, being so rooted… the way I have “grown”… if I can use such a term… seems “set.”

Many things I have read seem to tell me that this “set” can be “re-set.”  Does my memory stretch back far enough that I think it was called “Cognitive Therapy ?”

I’m not sure.  I’ll have to Google it… and see.

There just has to be a way for me to start making new quilting squares.  The old ones seem to just wear on me.  Actually… they’re wearing me down.

What’s the secret ?  Will Stephanie help me find the secret ?  My Secret ?

I have these damn “defining moments” that seem to “root” me.  And, being so rooted… the way I have “grown”… if I can use such a term… seems “set.”

Many things I have read seem to tell me that this “set” can be “re-set.”  Does my memory stretch back far enough that I think it was called “Cognitive Therapy ?”

I’m not sure.  I’ll have to Google it… and see.

A Birthday Dinner is What They Call It…

I’m not sure what I expected.  Well… actually, I guess I am.  Spent time, allotted time, time parceled-out.  That’s more like what it was.

It was having a Birthday Lunch with my daughter Robin.  Maybe I expect too much.  Perhaps I should change around the saying of “under-promise, over-deliver” to “under-expect, over-receive ?”

Or perhaps to “under-expect, be satisfied with whatever I get ?”

Well… that doesn’t work either.  After something like this, my mind usually goes to the closet and takes out the pity-whip.  I then use it on myself… perhaps telling myself without knowing it… that the emotional pain I got is what I deserved… because I was only “thinking of myself” instead of thinking of others.

I always think of others.  But once in a great while, I guess I make that horrid mistake of hoping that it just might be “my turn.”

Of course… after the bawl is over… I tell myself that that’s what I get for thinking of myself again.  But really… when IS is my turn ?  Or, do I even GET a turn ?

Days and Nights

Somehow I seem to have turned my personal clock, and my own circadian rhythms upside down lately.  I am either bored, or melancholic during the day, and I end up taking naps.

Then… some nights, like last night, I end up sitting at my computer screen until 2:00am… and then waddling off to bed… hopefully to sleepie-pie land.  But last night… I could not sleep.  So, I stayed there… my head tucked in the fluffiness of my pillow, and listened to what is played overnight on NPR.  The BBC World “feed.”

Interesting interviews… and of course, now that we’re in the middle of it… more and more news and commentary about what is going on in Egypt.  I ended up doing that… as I had no luck falling asleep… and finally got up about 6:45am.

I had several cups of coffee… which is supposed to keep me awake.  I watched about an hour of “Morning Joe”… watched some more news, had a bowl of chicken soup for breakfast, and then… finally felt tired enough… so back to bed I went… and finally got up about 10:45am.  About a two-hour nap.

Today… this afternoon… I watched the movie GroundHog Day… most appropriately.  I may have dozed just a tad while watching it, but have not had another nap… which is to say I have managed not to retreat back to the sheltered womb of my bed and my pillow… and taken another nap.

So far… the morning nap, and a short ”resting my eyes” while the movie was on.

So… how to sleep tonight ?  Or, will I sleep tonight ?  Or will I do what I usually do… which is park myself in front of this screen… try and find some Blogger or WordPress tutorials to read or watch, or try and figure out how to replace the default ”themes” with ones that are more interesting, and more “me.”

I am tired.  I am bored.  I am yawning.  I am fighting taking a nap.  I can do this.  Mebbe.

A Quilting Square for a Sunday Night…

Earlier tonight… actually in the middle of the night, I was lying, or is it laying, in bed, staring at the ceiling… realizing that I was totally awake with almost no chance of getting to sleep… when I looked at my watch.  Actually, I looked at my cell phone.  I take it to bed with me every night.  It’s digital time read-out is very easy to see… and of course, it’s back-lighted.

Anyway… I looked at my cell phone.  It was 3:19am.

So what happens ?  My eyes well up with tears, and I immediately vaulted into thoughts of Jackie’s birthday on 3:27.  March 27th.  It seems to follow me everywhere… hiding, but very ready to jump out.  Then… it was earlier tonight that I wrote a cute little feel-good post about GroundHog Day.

I wanted to read the WikiPedia article on the movie, so I went to it.  There was a link, and a paragraph about how GroundHog Day was voted number 8 on the American Film Institute list of all-time favorite “fantasy” films.

I, while I was there… I looked at the other lists… and came upon the list of greatest “courtroom dramas.”  And… number four… was “The Verdict” with Paul Newman.  It was from 1982.  And, of course… my eyes welled up with tears again.  It was the last movie that Jackie and I ever saw together.  I remembered it well… and actually remembered GOING to see the movie with Jackie.

So, I sit here… bleary-eyed… wiping my eyes.  It happens a lot.  Never because of a mood I happen to be in at the time… and always just popping out of nowhere when I stumble upon something. I am then transported into tears, melancholy, and a wish that this would all stop.  I don’t feel like I have any control over this.

I also feel that I am destined… even “sentenced” to be brutalized by this… for the rest of my life.  Just as I have been for the last twenty-nine years since my divorce from Jackie.  I hate this.  I have no peace.

I am not sure what I DO have.  More like someone wandering through the days, months, and years… hoping that when I finally DO go to sleep each night… that that particular night will be the last night I have to be dragged through this insanity that some people refer to as a “life.”  I don’t really seek out being pummeled like this.

At least I don’t think I do.  But, it continues to happen.  Not every day.  Most days are simply pointless.  There is the daylight part of each day, and then the darkness part of each day.  And some sadistic quilter seems bent on stitching them together in an endless string of quilting squares.