boxes

in which Beryl puts her paw down

Well people, she’s still at it.

Putting our life into random containers, that is.

I wish I knew what it was all for—both the stuff and the confusion.

Why (just for instance), treasure a specific tool called a noddy-noddy if you’re only going to put it in a box, put that box under ten other boxes where you can’t find it—

—then wind your skein around a piece of random cardboard that seems to do the job just fine?

I understand the importance of a good stick. But still.

Humans are weird.

At least mine is when she tries to think ahead while making ten different decisions in the moment.

I mean she knows perfectly well that the path to calm is paved with one task at a time. But does she practice this? No.

At least not until things get crazy enough—

—at which point she dives head first into what she calls a panic project¹ to regain her equilibrium.

You wouldn’t think adding yet another thing would be helpful, but apparently if it is the right project, it works. She was certainly more sanguine when she was done mending her skirt.²

And so was I.

But calming panic projects or no calming panic projects—

— deadlines continue to line up for whatever it is we’re doing, and even with good friends helping out, multi-faceted planning is my person’s favorite thing.

Nor, indeed, is it her forté.

So I’m putting myself in charge, doggedly declaring a Gusset pause, and removing at least one thing from the list.³

We’ll miss you like crazy, and I think it has to be done. See you on the other side!⁴

1. A friend and I coined the expression years ago when, the night before a airplane trip to a teaching gig, I stitched into the wee hours because I couldn’t possibly catch my 5 AM flight without this specific new bag for my toothbrush. Over the years it has proven to be a fantastically helpful phrase (and restorative practice), as it gives a certain gravitas to what might be dismissed as a frivolous use of time—a lovely reminder that focused creation is almost always a balm to my nervous system, and that both I (and everyone around me), will be the better for it.

2. It has been said that moving is right up there among the top five most stressful things in life (right along with long term illness and the death of a spouse, both pretty recent events in my life), so it’s a bit odd that for many of us the latter two can lead to the former. But there it is. Life’s weird, eh?

3. My lovely friend Vicki was a fantastic help. Packing, list-making and general organization are ever so much more fun when you get to talk about knitting in between the decisions. Indeed, Vicki’s dark brown Somewhat Slanted Hoodie that appears in the comic—a variation she devised—made me dream about knitting with Beryl at our new house sometime in the not tooooooo distant future.

4. I’m pausing subscription billing for the time being so you won’t be charged while we’re away; it will resume when we’re writing once again. Feel free to send Beryl a biscuit in the meantime though, if you feel like it!