It’s not always a good thing. A trip to JoAnn’s for some pins might end up causing me to spend $50 on fabric because of a new project I thought up once I saw how cute those fabric prints were. A trip to the LYS might warrant buying 15 skeins of Rowan Cashsoft because I loved this pattern I saw, forget that I have a sweater, three pair of socks, a blanket and a stole on the needles. It might have caused me to spend hundreds of dollars on scrapbook supplies because I was going to find a way to get the perfect picture to match the cardstock I just bought. It doesn’t end there. Here I am. A Knitter. Novice sewer. Baker. Scrapbooker. Jewelry Maker. And I just checked out a few books on quilting. Looks like Quilter might be added to the list. (Note: this list doesn’t include being a Mother, a Daughter, a Girlfriend, a Friend, a Cook, a Housemaid and whatever other labels may be included in my day to day life.)
The second reason is a morbid one. (Please don’t read if you are easily squeamish or sad.) Ever since being diagnosed Bipolar, my life was been a whirlwind of emotions. Some good, some bad. Depression is not an easy disease to live with. It’s hard to explain. It’s hard to understand. But I’ve always been convinced that I won’t live to be 100. There are so many contributing factors. Besides emotional, I’d say mankind is one of the biggest reasons. Since the beginning of time, man has done nothing but destroy man.
Right now I’m reading, “A Long Way Gone”, by Ishmael Beah. It is his story of when he was a child living in the war in Sierra Leone and how he was once an innocent 13 year old boy, who within weeks because a soldier of war. It saddens me, his story. But it also saddens me that I knew nothing about this when I, too, was a teenager. Children fighting the war of the rebels. And so it goes today. Eighteen year old boys carted off to fight a war they know nothing about. Rebels, terrorists, suicide bombers. We are not safe from ourselves.
And then there are accidents, such as the one that happened yesterday here in the Santa Clarita Valley. I don’t know too many details, and I’d like to keep it that way because it’s put me in a deep, dark gloom. Yesterday, Shawn, the kids and I went to Target to get diapers. We went to JoAnn’s to get buttons, (for the Tilted Duster). We went to Food 4 Less to buy groceries. We went to the bead shop to get beads. It took up 3 hours to do all of this. A good 2 1/2 hours of traffic. If you don’t know California, I should tell you now that we have some of the worst freeways in the world. One of them is the I-5. And yesterday was no exception. Yesterday there was a chain reaction crash in one of the tunnels of the freeway. One big rig crashed, then another, another and then another. They believe 15 big rigs and possibly a few cars crashed and were destroyed in a disastrous fire. They don’t know how many are died or injured because a few people have been unaccounted for. But when I think about what happened I can’t help but think how horrible it would be to be trapped in a car, with no escape. There is no good way to die, but fire…it’s all very sad.
Like I said, there just isn’t enough time. There isn’t enough time to knit up all the patterns that I like. There isn’t enough time to cut up hundreds of pieces of fabric to make a quilt. There isn’t enough time to buy all the fruits I enjoy every season. There isn’t enough time to make the house look immaculate. There isn’t enough time to watch every episode of “Law & Order”. There isn’t enough time to make all the necklaces and bracelets and earrings in the bead book I checked out just last week. There isn’t enough time to write my family the letters that I’ve owed them since July. There isn’t enough time to keep up every blog I read. There isn’t enough time to read every book I get from the library. There isn’t enough time to try every recipe I’d like to taste. There just isn’t enough time to do everything that I want to do.