![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2cWoWbD:chippanfire replied to your post “ughhhhh i brought all this shit to dye and print shirts for the farm…”
Lying there sounds extremely reasonable. Not having all your stuff is the worst. Although I will also ask, because I am a terrible person who has to offer suggestions at all times, is the dude in buffalo and if so could he send them to the farm?
I was only there for a week, and I wouldn’t know where to tell him the things were. (and I’m just now scrolling back and finding replies I missed at the time, so, hi!)
It turns out, they were with me in the bottom of a bag I searched but not thoroughly enough. The whole time.
But it’s okay. I brought them back with me and now the shirts are in the washing machine getting dyed. I couldn’t use my sister’s machine, it’s a fancy computerized one that doesn’t let you do things like, oh, add the soda ash after half an hour, like you have to. i’d’ve had to do it in a pot and it would’ve been splotchy and difficult. So this is better.
However. I left the stencils I cut back at the farm, so I can dye the shirts here, but can’t finish them.
I sort of can’t win.
I’m sort of really not cut out for this nomadic lifestyle. I want to live and work all in the same place. But I don’t want to leave Buffalo, and dude won’t leave Buffalo, and I don’t want to try to have a long-distance relationship. And the farm is where it is, that’s also non-negotiable. And working on the farm is the only meaningful thing I have going, semi-professionally.
So commuting it is. And that means I never have the shit I need where I can lay hands on it ever ever ever. And so I should do a massive life-decluttering, and get rid of most of my possessions. But I am naturally the type who is a hoarder, and I tend to use the hoarded things just often enough that I can’t bear to get rid of everything.
(Like. Mom’s old insulated drapes have been living in a box in my attic for a solid five or six years, and I just made them all into yurt insulation, saving myself hundreds of dollars I don’t have to spend on fabric. And middle-little sister and I just solved a problem Farmsister was having by hauling out all the weird glass jars middle-little has been hoarding for years, and decorating them. We’re not the kind of hoarders that keep, like, cats or garbage. We just have a deeply-conditioned genetic predisposition that’s been honed by experience into hanging fiercely onto things we think we might use later.)
Lying there sounds extremely reasonable. Not having all your stuff is the worst. Although I will also ask, because I am a terrible person who has to offer suggestions at all times, is the dude in buffalo and if so could he send them to the farm?
I was only there for a week, and I wouldn’t know where to tell him the things were. (and I’m just now scrolling back and finding replies I missed at the time, so, hi!)
It turns out, they were with me in the bottom of a bag I searched but not thoroughly enough. The whole time.
But it’s okay. I brought them back with me and now the shirts are in the washing machine getting dyed. I couldn’t use my sister’s machine, it’s a fancy computerized one that doesn’t let you do things like, oh, add the soda ash after half an hour, like you have to. i’d’ve had to do it in a pot and it would’ve been splotchy and difficult. So this is better.
However. I left the stencils I cut back at the farm, so I can dye the shirts here, but can’t finish them.
I sort of can’t win.
I’m sort of really not cut out for this nomadic lifestyle. I want to live and work all in the same place. But I don’t want to leave Buffalo, and dude won’t leave Buffalo, and I don’t want to try to have a long-distance relationship. And the farm is where it is, that’s also non-negotiable. And working on the farm is the only meaningful thing I have going, semi-professionally.
So commuting it is. And that means I never have the shit I need where I can lay hands on it ever ever ever. And so I should do a massive life-decluttering, and get rid of most of my possessions. But I am naturally the type who is a hoarder, and I tend to use the hoarded things just often enough that I can’t bear to get rid of everything.
(Like. Mom’s old insulated drapes have been living in a box in my attic for a solid five or six years, and I just made them all into yurt insulation, saving myself hundreds of dollars I don’t have to spend on fabric. And middle-little sister and I just solved a problem Farmsister was having by hauling out all the weird glass jars middle-little has been hoarding for years, and decorating them. We’re not the kind of hoarders that keep, like, cats or garbage. We just have a deeply-conditioned genetic predisposition that’s been honed by experience into hanging fiercely onto things we think we might use later.)
