I guess that’s why they call it the blues

I’ve been feeling rather tired lately. Last week, I was working hard on getting everything set up for my etsy store. Then, my three kids have been awfully squirrelly at bedtime (more so than usual). Just when Mr. Gren and I breathe a sigh of relief that all is quiet upstairs, one of the girls comes wandering down with no real reason, prolonging the whole process. I can’t go to bed until I know they’re all asleep, although I’ve been tired enough to want to go to bed earlier. They all three have been waking up a lot during the night, too, for assorted reasons. And somehow, despite going to bed late and waking up in the middle of the night, they are still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7:30. That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re in good moods; just that they’re up and raring to go and if I choose to stay in bed, it will just mean heartache later when I get up and see what they’ve destroyed. Because they will destroy something. So, I’m tired.

I vegged out yesterday and crocheted rows and rows of mindless zigzags on an afghan (it’s one of my perpetual projects, always ready next to the couch for when my hands need something to do). That was safe. And the good thing about crochet is, if you mess up, ripping it out doesn’t leave any noticeable traces, unlike in sewing. Which is what I attempted to do yesterday before I made myself stop. I had some fun blueberry print fabric that I had planned on making into cloth napkins. We stopped using paper napkins long ago. Cloth ones are more fun, anyways. Right now we have a set of four orange (the fruit) napkins and four grape napkins, plus a few odd-sized ones from scrap fabric that I stick in lunchboxes or the picnic basket. The girls always manage to lose theirs or drop them on the floor enough that it grosses me out to think of them wiping their faces on them. It was time to add a few more napkins to the rotation. A little pressing, four straight seams (x4) and an hour later I have a finished project. It’s my kind of instant gratification.

I really should know better than to sew while I’m tired, though. To begin with, my Igor brain kept chanting “Sixteen inches, sixteen inches” as I approached the fabric with my shears. As soon as I made the first snip, clarity returned and I chided myself for already screwing up the project. The napkins should measure sixteen inches when they’re done. They need to be cut at seventeen inches. Grrr. Well, we’ll just call these lunch napkins. I finished cutting them out and realized that my shears must have been knocking back some sewing machine oil when I wasn’t looking because not a single edge was straight. Double grrr. I went ahead and pressed over the edges and sewed them, almost out of defiance. I’m gonna have me some blueberry napkins, gosh dang it.

And I do. And they measure fifteen inches.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my crochet hook is calling.