Status Update...
Salt baths and lots of holding it above my head has help my arm recover *lots* despite four people telling me I need antibiotics and two people telling me I needed A&E. It now looks like a healing burn instead of a rancid acid attack from an alien.
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Katie, Ben and Delilah were at the Oast two weeks back. Katie and Ben mostly hid in their room, Delilah mostly shrieked 'Aaantee Rav'n!' and dive-bombed me demanding attention and that we watch Corpse Bride for the sixth time so she can ask me questions like 'why does the skeleton have eyes?', 'why is she sad?', 'is he dead?' and, 'is she a witch? where are they? I thought witches lived with you?'. Then she ran back to Katie demanding to be dead and have blue hair. Lalala.
Katie and Ben seem to treat Oast stays as hotel holidays with a creche. (Maybe I'm being mean, I dunno. But all my other siblings take charge of their sproggling's supper and don't just leave me to it without ask, aid or instruction when I'm meant to be getting the adult's supper. And it worries me how Ben will sit and wait for supper to be presented and for cutlery to be fetched for him; doesn't appear to occur to him to get off his arse and fetch anything himself. Grr. Although he did say thank you, so I can't bitch too much. Shrug.)
Managed to do my father's accounts. Haven't managed to do much creative stuff. Although Delilah helped me with a spell to turn death-bees into blue-thought-bees.
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Painting and dust and building stuff continues. It's turning my brain to swiss cheese I swear. That and I sleep all weekend. Haven't done or even thought about art or writing for far too long. Ergh. I don't feel like me.
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James wants me to make his wedding ring. This is lovely. He bought me silver - this too is lovely. Here comes the bit where I swear a lot. The silver he bought is 6cm long. I need 7cm to make the ring. If I had a mill or a press this would be fine; I’d flatten it very slightly and stretch it to the right length. Alternatively if I had an anvil, a lot of vice grips and a lot of weirdly shaped hammers I could hit the fekker into the right shape over several days. But I don’t.
Do you know how long it takes to make 3mil thick silver do ANYTHING at all by hand? Kerrist, I think I want to cry. It’s a simple piece, nothing complicated, yet the thickness of the silver makes it bloody impossible. I’ve been trying to bend the loop closed so I can solder it for the past two hours. TWO HOURS. That’s ridiculous - usually it’s done in ten minutes.
And as for the hammering it into the curved girder shape James wants, fuck knows how I’ll manage that. Waaaaah.
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I don't mind being crazy and mad in the general and occasionally unhinged sense. I do mind when I get clinically insane and start wondering very seriously about committing myself to hospital. *bludgeons own brain* I always used to wonder what the actual definition of a mental breakdown is. I think through practical experience I have a pretty good idea.
(If you're shivering when it's 20degrees, if you can stare at the wall without thinking for more hours than you'd care to admit to, if you're catatonicly tired at 3pm and sleep all the time, if you're not hungry, if you want to talk to people but fear they might be potplants, if you're not overly certain what happened yesterday and what you dreamed happened yesterday, if you're convinced you're just a stray thought in a lump of magic meat, if you can't tell what the time or day is other than 'dark' or 'light', if you know everything is going to turn to dust and can't bear it, and if you spend all your time actively plotting how to temporarily 'accidentally' cripple your hands so you legitimately cannot finish an art project... Then you might be a little bit ill.)
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Ergh. And now I'm going back to watching Dr Who and encouraging my sanity to regenerate.
There may be stories of detectives and artists later. Or there may be copious amounts of swearing. All rather depending on how silversmithing and my brain behave tomorrow.
===
Katie, Ben and Delilah were at the Oast two weeks back. Katie and Ben mostly hid in their room, Delilah mostly shrieked 'Aaantee Rav'n!' and dive-bombed me demanding attention and that we watch Corpse Bride for the sixth time so she can ask me questions like 'why does the skeleton have eyes?', 'why is she sad?', 'is he dead?' and, 'is she a witch? where are they? I thought witches lived with you?'. Then she ran back to Katie demanding to be dead and have blue hair. Lalala.
Katie and Ben seem to treat Oast stays as hotel holidays with a creche. (Maybe I'm being mean, I dunno. But all my other siblings take charge of their sproggling's supper and don't just leave me to it without ask, aid or instruction when I'm meant to be getting the adult's supper. And it worries me how Ben will sit and wait for supper to be presented and for cutlery to be fetched for him; doesn't appear to occur to him to get off his arse and fetch anything himself. Grr. Although he did say thank you, so I can't bitch too much. Shrug.)
Managed to do my father's accounts. Haven't managed to do much creative stuff. Although Delilah helped me with a spell to turn death-bees into blue-thought-bees.
===
Painting and dust and building stuff continues. It's turning my brain to swiss cheese I swear. That and I sleep all weekend. Haven't done or even thought about art or writing for far too long. Ergh. I don't feel like me.
===
James wants me to make his wedding ring. This is lovely. He bought me silver - this too is lovely. Here comes the bit where I swear a lot. The silver he bought is 6cm long. I need 7cm to make the ring. If I had a mill or a press this would be fine; I’d flatten it very slightly and stretch it to the right length. Alternatively if I had an anvil, a lot of vice grips and a lot of weirdly shaped hammers I could hit the fekker into the right shape over several days. But I don’t.
Do you know how long it takes to make 3mil thick silver do ANYTHING at all by hand? Kerrist, I think I want to cry. It’s a simple piece, nothing complicated, yet the thickness of the silver makes it bloody impossible. I’ve been trying to bend the loop closed so I can solder it for the past two hours. TWO HOURS. That’s ridiculous - usually it’s done in ten minutes.
And as for the hammering it into the curved girder shape James wants, fuck knows how I’ll manage that. Waaaaah.
===
I don't mind being crazy and mad in the general and occasionally unhinged sense. I do mind when I get clinically insane and start wondering very seriously about committing myself to hospital. *bludgeons own brain* I always used to wonder what the actual definition of a mental breakdown is. I think through practical experience I have a pretty good idea.
(If you're shivering when it's 20degrees, if you can stare at the wall without thinking for more hours than you'd care to admit to, if you're catatonicly tired at 3pm and sleep all the time, if you're not hungry, if you want to talk to people but fear they might be potplants, if you're not overly certain what happened yesterday and what you dreamed happened yesterday, if you're convinced you're just a stray thought in a lump of magic meat, if you can't tell what the time or day is other than 'dark' or 'light', if you know everything is going to turn to dust and can't bear it, and if you spend all your time actively plotting how to temporarily 'accidentally' cripple your hands so you legitimately cannot finish an art project... Then you might be a little bit ill.)
===
Ergh. And now I'm going back to watching Dr Who and encouraging my sanity to regenerate.
There may be stories of detectives and artists later. Or there may be copious amounts of swearing. All rather depending on how silversmithing and my brain behave tomorrow.