It all seemed so promising, this Saturday. It's been a busy week - I've been scurrying all over the place tutoring. Late nights. Early mornings. Listening to David Bowie music (sad) and watching Alan Rickman clips (even sadder). You know. Stuff.
And so I was looking forward to today. Today, I decided, I was going to read in bed for an hour with a cup of tea. Then I was going to get up, let the hens out to have full run of the garden, have breakfast and read the papers, light the woodburner and spend the day doing proper research and prep for the start of embroidery class next Saturday because we've been given our project title which is 'The Hedgerow.'
And then I was going to maybe watch a film in the afternoon, maybe read a bit more, have a hot chocolate and make a couple of preliminary sketches based on my hedgerow research.
Saturday was all planned.
It started so well, and went according to plan until about an hour into my research. And then the phone rang. And then Andy and I found ourselves yomping across town to assist a friend in the clipping of the toenails of three chihuahuas which she has taken on following the sudden death this week of their owner. The dogs are okay but could be better. Two of them quite nervous. All with overgrown toe nails. And one of them peed most excessively on Andy during the nailcutting process. So I held her at arms' length whilst the nailcutting was completed.
And then we went home. Had soup. And I loaded the washing machine with chihuahua-pee trousers. And then my Mum phoned - could she come round for a couple of hours? Yes, said I. Of course you can. There was tea and chat and jaffa cakes. And by the time she went it was 'time' to make a veggie lasagne for dinner. And now I am watching stupid telly.
But because my Saturday plan had been interrupted, my creative resolve went. I am SO cross with myself. Did I get back on with sketching? With sorting out threads and beads? With roughing out a 3-D model? No, I did not.
This week, you see, I've also been watching a series of textile artist videos about artistic resilience and rebellion, and grit and determination. 'Yes!' I have been saying. 'Yes! This makes sense. I can do this. I can prioritise creativity over everything and make it important.I can change the way I want to live.'
Well. It seems I can't. It seems that creativity was beaten into a hugely inferior 6th place by family, telly, cooking lasagne, washing and effin' chihuahuas.
And I am sorry for this rant but I am really, REALLY hacked off with the weakness that has come out of me today. If I had the guts I'd go out into the road RIGHT NOW and scream at the top of my voice. But I don't even have the front to do that.
So I'm going to make some hot chocolate instead, and try and not think about a creative Saturday that could have been, but wasn't.