June 2 thru June 8, 2016
I’ve written about accountability here before. This blog was started as a way for me to be accountable for my goals for the State Fair. The blog has served its purpose, but it’s turned into more than that for me. I’ve used it to vent about grief involving a redneck and a dog. I’ve used it to chronicle all of my crocheting endeavors (although, I’m lax on updating that part), whether they’re for the Fair or not. I’ve used it to get some thoughts about various things from inside my head to outside my head, even though they tend to return shortly after moving through my fingers to the keyboard.
For the past year or so, I haven’t updated this in the way in which I planned. I started out updating it every single day with my progress, even if it was small, on some project. I enjoyed doing that because it made me feel like I was moving in the right direction of attaining my ridiculous little goals. Lately, though, I’ve kind of felt like these goals from year to year involving the various fairs are so petty and meaningless in the grand scheme of life. I’ve spent countless HOURS and DAYS and WEEKS in the planning and crocheting of these bits and pieces of craftiness. Many of which are just shoved into a dresser drawer in my closet.
Working on these projects has not really gotten in the way of me doing other things. I do still go out with friends. I travel when I can. I work. But, what else could I be doing if I weren’t sitting on my couch, crocheting and fighting off the cat’s demands for attention? Would I be doing something more meaningful? The odds are I would not.
I’m not an athlete so I wouldn’t be doing something outdoorsy. When I do things outdoors, it rarely involves exercise. A chair by a bonfire or next to a body of water are good enough for me. And there’s usually a crochet project in my bag.
I’m an animal lover, but I wouldn’t be working at a shelter. Seeing abandoned, homeless animals would increase my stress levels beyond belief. I would have nightmares about not being able to take any of them home, and I’d even worry about the safety and happiness of the ones who did go to homes.
I don’t have the patience to work with children. If I were volunteering with them, I’d be constantly watching the clock for my chance to leave.
So…I crochet. Not meaningful. Not life-changing. Just me and a hook and some yarn. And a cat who only wants me when I have yarn.
I am going to start updating this daily again. I think. I’ll try. Until I finally decide that a piece of paper taped to the refrigerator with the fair turn-in dates and my list of projects is accountability enough for me.