The Husband and I lead sedentary lives for most of the year. Historically, we've both held office jobs and had hobbies done from a chair. Seasons permitting, we do a little yard work and vegetable gardening, but we are by no means go-getters in those departments. We are both out of shape. I've been telling The Husband that we need to stay out of the recliners and get some exercise.
Saturday morning, The Husband said he was going to move around instead of sitting around all day. So he got up, put his yard shoes on, and went out to saw off some limbs that have been impairing our view of the road from the driveway. I had a couple of errands to run, but when I got back, I put on my yard shoes and went out to help. By this time, he was chain-sawing on the limbs that had fallen across the back yard 3 weeks ago. The tips of the limbs were small enough to run through the limb grinder, so I set it up and started grinding, filling the big yard wagon to the brim with tiny wood chips. After that, I cranked the push mower and did some mowing, then I dragged the wagonload of wood chips down to the garden and spread them on top of the soil for weed control.
We quit the yard about 5:00, both of us worn out.
After breakfast Sunday morning, I went to the sewing room, still in my housecoat, planning to finish piecing the quilt sections. I'd been sewing for about 5 minutes when The Husband came in to ask if I was going to attend the annual meeting at his work. I groaned. It is kind of a necessary thing, and it's not unpleasant, but I'd have much rather stayed home. Nevertheless, I got up, showered, and dressed, intending to go back to the sewing room until time to leave. Then I remembered that I'd planned to put a pot roast in the oven at 2:00, the exact time the meeting would start. New plan: crock-pot pot roast.
I still had a little time to sew once dinner was in the crock pot. I sat down at the machine and stitched two rows together, but when I checked them against the chart, I discovered that I'd sewn them together upside down. I spent most of the rest of my hoped-for sewing time looking for a seam ripper.
I usually keep two seam rippers handy: one in the sewing room and one in a bowl by my recliner. I seemed to remember deliberately putting one of them where I would be sure to see it later, but neither seam ripper was to be found. I ended up picking out the seam with the embroidery scissors. By then, it was time to leave for the meeting. When I got home, I re-sewed the rows together (correctly), but didn't trust myself to start another row.
The hunt for the seam rippers resumed this morning. One of them fell out of my recliner when I turned it upside down. But that's not the one I deliberately put somewhere to be found later.
It's this kind of sh*t that drives me nuts.
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