|Steve on banjo, Ute on ukelele|
I've sent off 30 pages to be commented upon by my writing Mentor at Humber. That was a week ago. My nails are bitten to the quick. What's he going to say? How much red pencil will there be?
I attended a workshop this Saturday on how to make Protest Posters. Led by Franke James, an artist who examines politics and the environment. She is on Harper's enemy list. It was interesting session.
Each person considered the question "What is the hardest thing I could do?" with respect to engaging in environmental sensitivity, or social action, or justice. Topics like turning the heat down, reducing air miles, looking at the larger picture of perplexing questions and so on were all turned into cool posters.
The hardest thing for me to do is cook. But since I loathe it, instead I'm in charge of menu planning, shopping, preserving, clean up and more clean up.We stay local, we stay with fair trade products and we eat fabulously.
My needle is almost as active as my pen these days. I have knit the 12 bootie sets for my mom's charity, Happy Hands. I forgot to take pictures. I still have enough yarn for next year's dozen.
I have finally put the backing on this piece. I think I love it. For a change, I really, really like what I made.
Two cords of wood are due to arrive this week and will need stacking in the wood sheds. Yick. I should book an appointment with my hero, Ken, the osteopath now to take care of my inevitably ruined neck. Now I am off to be a good student and read "The Elements of Style" by William Strunk and E.B. White. (yes, that E.B. White)