It was not my intention when the day began,
but as the sun hit the trees I simply had to sweep away
the the inches of fir needles and branches that had blown onto the deck outside my studio,
and that meant dealing with the geraniums, which were almost buried,
which reminded me that it was past time to cut them back and move them inside
(they apparently thrive on neglect so live for years in my careless care).
and that meant I needed to clean "their" corner of the the sun porch,
which led to tidying the whole thing,
which in turn led to window washing,
(though while outside collecting pebbles for the narcissus I got distracted and
cut back a pick up truck full of lilac branches so I will have a place to put snow this winter),
I boiled some water for a cup of Earl Grey
and sat on the newly swept deck
but sipping and soaking up the golden light,
noticing all the other chores that would just have to wait,
sloppy, messy, dusty, snippy, ladder climbing rushing about
while wearing my brand new and possibly not quite finished skirt.
"Well," I thought, "so much for taking care of my new clothes!"
-- so what?
This gusset skirt, like the one I made last week,
is so comfortable that I didn't really notice it was on and thus
quite perfect for outdoor work on an autumn day.
The skirt is thicker and longer than the the first,
a slightly different design,
and, to my eyes, a touch more formal than its predecessor.
But it is just as stretchy and easy to wear.
all the parts have already been immersed in water ,
steamed with a hot iron,
and generally manipulated in ways that the wool seems actually to like.
And I'm always happy to throw things I make in a tub of hot water.
"Perfect for visits to your bank manager."
It might also have been lined
to make sure it didn't ride up anyone's tights,
(or pantyhose -- do people still wear those?)
even though it doesn't.
Ride up, I mean.
But for me, it turned out to be the perfect thing to wear