I think I set the bar too high for myself, this spring break.  I made this gargantuan list of things I was going to do, not taking some other important things into account, and now I’m kind of sad that I didn’t get everything done.  I’ve done some great things: planted, turned over all the garden beds, brought the rain barrel and some random flowers from my old place, unpacked some more boxes, done some yoga, sat on the porch every morning with coffee, went with Brenna to Care of the Earth Farm, got together presents for faraway friends, went to hear the KSO perform The Planets and another piece that we think we almost liked better: “Musica Celestis” by Kernis.  That’s good stuff, and it’s going to have to be good enough.  It is good enough.  And the dark cloud hovering over starting school on Monday will dissipate just like it always does.  I’ll be ok, and I’ll start another new life in the fall.

Since I’ve pretty much failed to be very responsible with my time, this week, I’m going to just give up and do things I want to do today.  What I want to do is basically work on my quilt, the one I found in my closet yesterday when I was being industrious.  It’s largely cotton sheets and polyester floral fabrics—which, Lauren, you’ll recognize! you sent one of them to me a long time ago—and I’ve pieced the entire thing by hand.  I find myself irremediably lost, sewing each tiny stitch, and I would like to be lost in stitching quilts forever.  I pieced and pinned it when I was working for Jo, those long evenings watching TV with her, pins in my mouth.  She loved it, thought I was so creative and sharp.  Anyways, all I want to do for the rest of my life is to lay that quilt on the kitchen table, stitch up the last side and the last two corners, and then put it into my hoop and start quilting.  That’s basically what I would rather be doing than school.  Maybe I can quit school and get a job making quilts for some super-rich person.  And their butler could bring me cups of coffee.