Sunday is a day where I do not "work." I make my lists, my plans for the upcoming week but I will not clean, do laundry, all that stuff. I like to do little sewing tasks on Sunday afternoon as well. I prep Sunday dinner on Saturday night that way I just pop it in the cooker and head to the studio. Today just some simple work. In my early childhood there was NO working on Sunday. Reading the newspaper, listening to baseball games, playing an instrument, finish cooking dinner...that was it. My Grandmother, an excellent pianist and personal assistant to my Grandfather, was NOT a cook. Nor did she clean. A housekeeper came weekly to manage her large house while she worked on piano arrangements, drove my Grandfather around, and typed his sermons and letters. No Work was ever permitted. She would pick up a large cake at the bakery and a couple half-gallons of ice cream when we visited. You would get a slice of ice cream and a slice of cake. Some might think that is great, it made me sick, every time. To this day, I cannot eat sweets like this. I must have real food before any idea of sweet stuff. 
Today, I have been serge-finishing all the edges of my linen and Aida fabric, refolding, storing them more carefully. A goal for this machine (Baby Lock Ovation Serger) is to make a cover that wraps the machine, around the thread holders rather than the charming plastic one it came with. I have to feed that cover over the telescoping holders and that ultimately disrupts the thread path. Not fun. 
Needlework, all kinds, have been the blessings of the pandemic. From so many sources I am hearing stitchers remark about the positives of the isolation caused by the pandemic for many of us. I agree that for those of us who do not have to go out into the chaos of the world, discovering or rediscovery stitching skills has been a nice diversion.
- I spent this last week doing a bit of Easter decorating. For many years I have not, it is time to live again.
- I had my second vaccine on Thursday. No big deal, arm sore. THEN, 20 hours later, almost to the minute I could swear I had been hit by a car. Every one of my joints, where the most severe arthritis resides, was screaming in pain. I took the tylenol, nothing, I took some Tramadol, nothing. I truly was miserable for about 18 hours. I was ready to head to the hospital and then, bingo, it stopped. What the heck? Only the severely arthritic joints were affected. Right now my right hand is doing a little rumba again, but warm water will help. Husband, sore arm and nothing else.
- Next week I am going to start living again. I am going to head to IKEA, I need little things. I am going back to church, I am visiting friends and friends are visiting me. That's right, I am out of here.
- Also, on my way to my favorite quilt shops to get some thread therapy. This is important for sparking the creative spirit for me.
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