Monday, April 05, 2010
Inside the minds of Zeus and Hera
I happen to like this picture, a lot. Not because it's a great picture but because that "hill" you see off in the distance is Blue Mound. It's one of the Nine Mounds that are scattered around the southwestern area of Wisconsin. To the Native Americans each Mound had a purpose, perhaps a gathering place, maybe the home of wintering bears, who knows. My area has this beautiful hill, which is the highest point in our area. It has this wonderful blue look to it, hence the name.
When I first showed this to my good buddies, from New York state, there was snickering from the back seat. They were not impressed. I know, it's not a mountain and probably I shouldn't even call it a hill, it's a Mound. I still love it.
Those of you who read the comment section will have noticed that Zeus deemed it necessary to post a comment recently. That's because he thoroughly enjoys HIS sense of humor.
On Easter, we did what we have probably done most holidays, all our married life. We worked on either a house or yard. This year I was enjoying a break from this routine and actually working in the studio when Zeus clomped up the steps to announce that he was doing something, I'm not sure what, I was really paying attention, until I heard him say, ".......and so do you want me to start bringing up all that fabric and boxes from downstairs?"
My first thought was ARE YOU NUTS? Forty-two years of living together I have learned how to temper some of my thought comments. I smiled and said, "No thank you."
I've just about got the studio, organized, relatively neat looking and have my Art Quilt group visiting for my monthly meeting next Thursday. Do I want four ton of bags and boxes of fabric and stuff that I can't live without, piled up in all available space, in the studio?
I DON'T THINK SO.
He's so cute when he does something like this. So we do what we always do, what young people getting married better get good at, quickly. We compromised. I suggested that if he clear out the back corner of the first floor of the barn and move the deck chairs and pool items out to the pool area that I, in turn, would move the bags and bags and bags (honestly, I could keep saying that until you wanted to choke me) of fabric and boxes over to the corner and stack them "neatly".
Being a wise-ass Super God, Zeus knew he should take the olive branch and get on with it.
He did his part and then retired to the house to watch golf.
I moved the gallon size bags of fabric. I understand I have a lot of fabric. Probably an obscene amount of fabric. I justify it by calling it a collection. I have been collecting fabric since the early 80s. When mixed media entered my life six years ago it gave me an excuse to start saving every "cool", "interesting" or plain weird thing that I found.
So, I spend the afternoon moving and stacking.
That evening, after Easter dinner I collapsed in my chair, exhausted. When I finally could get myself OUT of my chair to get a drink of water I realized that every muscle in my body was crying out in PAIN. I walked by Zeus, stretched out on his couch and waved my pointy finger at him, "YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL ME OFF, AREN'T YOU?" I glared at him.
"No, my dear, Hera, YOU were trying SUICIDE BY FABRIC."
The problem with laughing when you are so sore is that your laughter is interspersed with ooooh, oooooouch.
Posted by Bea