It’s the second afternoon of my post-storm snow-in, and I remain in good spirits. Indeed, my most pressing issue isn’t boredom, depression, or ennui but rather having a packed schedule and an overly ambitious to-do list that’s way too long to be realistic. I’m already significantly behind my entirely arbitrary schedule for the day, but that’s for a good reason: I spent well over an hour this morning putting together and placing a giant order for paper sewing patterns. One of my Canadian retailors of choice is having a great sale, and who am I to miss an opportunity to save money on items I covet but arguably don’t need?
After that little detour, which I’ll claim was productive in a broad-ish definition of the term, I’m now more or less back on track. Among my loftiest goals—yes, of course I have a formalized list of them—for this “break” is to finally establish a writing and sewing routine that’ll allow me to feel like I’m making progress on both fronts, and I made baby steps in that direction yesterday. Between social plans, family calls, and housework, I brainstormed, worked on the outline for a story I’d like to write, and, obviously, published a blog post. I also finished sewing my latest (and greatest) pair of Bisque trousers and went back to the muslin of the Jenna shirt I’ve been picking away at with the aid of Closet Core Pattern’s shirt-making course. I’m going through it slowly as to really master each skill before moving on to the next, and it’s been an incredibly satisfying process; I swear that sewing my first sleeve placket gave me an adrenaline rush like no other. More on that later, though.
In other good news, the City of Toronto’s storm cleanup is well underway. In less-good news, I anticipate it being days before I can safely venture far from home. They did a first pass at our road’s sidewalk sometime this morning, which is great on the one hand, frustrating on the other since, judging from the pictures a friend kindly sent to me, it’ll take a lot more work to make it passable with a wheelchair. No hate to the city: plowing feet of snow from thousands of km of streets and sidewalks and later trucking said snow to dumping sites is a monumental undertaking, and significant improvements have been made since what the CBC accurately calls “last year’s snow removal fiasco.” Significant improvements, however, don’t equate to a miracle. For the time being, then, my fresh air will be limited to twice-daily trips to a small alcove a metre from my building’s back door. There, I fill my lungs, cool my skin, and remember that being outside in yet another cold snap in Ontario isn’t something I actually enjoy.
De Morbo Sacro: Life and/with Epilepsy 