February 6, 1965

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose #memoir #writing

February 6, 1965

I had nothing to do except my work all day. I'm bored stiff. I have nothing to sew! I figure this summer if I don't work at Camp Maria Pratt I can do sewing in my home for people around the here. It would have to be on a first come, first served basis. I could make a few bucks for the bank. Tomorrow I go to New York city - whoopee! Now I'll really have something to write about in this puny diary.

February 6, 2023

Bored stiff, with “nothing to do” except housework? Sounds familiar.

A few days ago, I finished both of my knitting projects and the book I was reading. This is not supposed to happen. Typically, I have enough balls in the air to keep me occupied every waking moment. Fortunately, I have this writing thing going on.

I tell people I am writing, and they always want to know what I am working on. If they know about The Abandoned Book, they ask if it’s The Book. This is not a book. It’s a core sample. You see these notebooks? 

That’s fifty years of journaling, and just the hard copies. There is also a digital file of about 20,000 tweets, and other internet scribblings. For every February 6, for every July 4, for every 9/11, there are moments frozen in amber. Stacks of them. A lifetime supply.

I started two new fiber projects yesterday, and am several chapters into a new book. (Reading, not writing). And today I wrote this, such as it is. Also, I noticed the dust bunnies in the corner of the bathroom.

Hello, dust bunnies.