Four Turkeys, 65" x 64"
vintage fabrics, repurposed household items, rusted linen and cotton
Sandy's Thanksgiving holiday memories, not many good ones, but a cheery veneer. I always felt holidays were fraught with disaster: see bottom panel. This most likely if the root of my overdoing holidays at my own house and still feeling empty and unfulfilled after. OK, Therapy R Us here. Now that I don't have to do the big family deal anymore I am so happy to just plain not do ANYTHING and enjoy a day off to hang out. Of course this isn't how I *should* feel so I make my stuffing and go to whoever is doing it this year and smile, then retreat to the kitchen to do dishes. I'm a silent butler, but still on edge waiting for that next shoe to drop.
Note to self, rip this thing off the wall and remove the border! Note from self: OK.
PS- you should have seen what I did at Christmas! Let's just say that I always exited the festivities and ended up lying on the wood floor with back spasms in private. But that's a whole other overachievers quilt, isn't it? As soon as I figure out how to add the Chipmunk Christmas album mp3 and a few strings of little LED lights to a quilt I'll start working. My last quilt with Christmas tree lights doesn't light up anymore, but it's seen 20+ years of passive aggressive protest. I need some new technology.
close enough
Hard to decide who to root for in this fight since I am also a raven fan, but you gotta admit the squirrel is a loyal little guy and seems to get the final say.
To not appear the total holiday asshole, I do a few charity things now, throw some money around and put in a bit of effort and it really helps get past this attitude. I just didn't want to leave you thinking I wallow too deeply anymore, basically I just avoid and it works well.
2 comments :
Happy Day Off to You!
Here's what you might need for your future project
at this point I figure we can pick the work that we want to do and disregard the rest.
Mary Beth
I hear you.
My holiday tradition is: a dear, dear friend invites me to dinner. And I decline. It's our tradition, every year. I get to feel wanted and he gets to feel understanding. It works for us.
Otherwise from Columbus Day to Xmas eve, I slip into a burrow and pull it in after me. (I am, however, fond of the feeling of timelessness between Xmas and New Year's.) No apologies. No excuses. I yam what I yam.
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