the way things actually unfold

Resolutions!
Intentions!
We (or at least I),  peer into the imaginary future this time of year
head full of plans,  heart full of belief, hands awaiting possibility.
And why not?
It's fun to have ideas and plans -- they are snacks for the Brain
But snacks, of course, have issues --
not least, ruining a gal's appetite for supper.

Intensions, however, (as Rebecca Mezoff defines them), have a gentler cycle than the sugar-rush-and-crash of resolutions. They (intensions) seem more flexible, less prone to failure.

intention:  "today I picked up my pencil for two minutes. Yay!" or  "Maybe tomorrow I can write three words."
vs
resolution: "I wrote my whole novel!  yay me!" or "I watched a movie instead of writing. I quit."

In my case, a resolution would already have flopped.
But I think my intention is doing OK.
 I have, you see,  been planning to start weaving a tapestry in the new year.

On January First:  build a loom and warp it. 
On January second (today): blog/brag about it.

(Making this plan in November enabled me to set aside the siren song of my loom
and tend to other projects, a thing I sorely needed.  Thank you Jessica Abel).

This all hinged on me remembering to ask my son Henry (keeper of the family drill press),  to make evenly spaced, perfectly parallel holes in a couple of plywood scraps that would become a four selvedge jig. 
Unfortunately,  I failed  to think about what size dowels I might actually need to span the distance of the loom I would build for the tapestry I imagined I would weave....
So when he asked  how big he should make the holes, I said -- 1/2 inch.

Turns out I should have said 5/8.
Because a 1/2" diameter dowel is too bendy for a jig for the 18" span of the loom I was going to build for the 11" tapestry I planned to weave.

I ate some chocolate.
And I don't  even like chocolate. 

I contemplated redrilling the holes with my egg beater drill,
(couldn't get them straight or even)
thought about using something else for a jig
(nothing quite right),
decided abandon the whole idea  forever...
(too damned persistent).

Eventually I  decided to build a 12" loom.

And that would have been fine,
except
that the 1/2" pipe pieces for the 12" loom were busy
being part of a hanging mechanism for my clothes.

Easy fix:
 throw all the clothes and bags on the floor and retrieve the bits of pipe I needed.

And that worked out wonderfully, 
EXCEPT

...that once the dismantling began it seemed sensible to take it completely apart
and rebuild a better, less wobbly  and more useful one using my collection of 1" pipe. 
Because wouldn't it be nice to have  some extra extensions for jeans not dirty enough to wash but too dirty to put back in a drawer?

And, since it looks so good when there is hardly anything on the cool new rack,
perhaps the first week of January is  actually the perfect time to get at those baseboards with a toothbrush, get on with my mending pile, 
and sort through my clothes to see which ones I REALLY want in the first place.
Or at least which ones look best on the rack.

And this last is particularly hard as the pile on the floor grows higher by the minute

with these new skirts!

This is number four -- finished on 31 December (as planned),
freeing up my yarnish hours  for the imaginary tapestry
I didn't actually start.

But I am pleased with the skirt.
Though short enough to retain that lovely loose limbed feeling of her sisters,
she is a touch  longer than the other three
​so perfect for my more demure moments.

The structure is also as stretchy and flexible as ever -- light and easy so I hardly notice it is on. 

AND it turned out to be a fine place for those grey buttons about which we all debated  for the last skirt!

A sketch for my skirt-making comic, which now resides in the "haven't gotten as far as I hoped but that's OK' category of planning..

So there you have it --
plans begun, adjusted, diverted
and now... unfolding... perhaps...
though... oh dear... that pile of stuff...

Never mind. I hung up four things.  That's plenty!
​My 12" loom awaits.