It's been 55 degrees at night lately--Mr. B is going camping with friends and will have to pack long sleeved shirts and and extra sleeping bag for warmth. Were it not for the birds waking me up at dawn, I'd swear it was October and not July. We leave our windows open for the fresh air, but don't turn on any fans. I wake up fumbling for slippers and a sweatshirt. Pfft. Global warming? Not in Wisconsin.
I just finished Julie & Julia, a positively wonderful book. The Bumble Book Club is going to see the movie and discuss both over apres-film dessert and drinks--I think I've mentioned how awesome my book club is. But the book really got me thinking towards the end about purpose and joy in life and wondering about the routine I feel stuck in these days and how I might infuse it with more meaning. What is it about projects? They give us pride, ambition, satisfaction in ways that other activities do not. Ask any quilter/carpenter/baker/beader/sculptor. Facing raw materials with a vision of a finished product--maybe that's something I need right now. I have enough nebulous projects--parenting, Happyland PTA stuff, restoring the prairie/wetland/woods around our property, a book in progress. But these things are too unwieldy. They're big, cumbersome, long and exhausting. They don't have apparent halfway points or anything to signify "success." I need to tackle something simple, something that will provide gratification and a clear end point.
Maybe I'll knit some socks.
Spill it reader, what project gives you a sense of accomplishment?