Forced Rest

The last two months have been stunningly productive — 21 yards of cloth woven in June, 15.5 yards in July.  The Porphyry Series was started and finished all within slightly over a week.  Both series were professionally photographed by Michael Stadler (Stadler Studios) last Tuesday (July 30), and three of the six scarves were sold two days later.  One Porphyry one is left, and two of the Fireworks Series.  Blew me out of my (non-existent) socks.  I tend to think that my best, most expensive work (these are that) will take a looooonngggg time to sell, and I often find that assumption to be incorrect.

In the midst of this, the hammer fell.  On Tuesday (July 29), as I was finishing up watering my raised beds (vegetables and cutting flowers) and big pots of old-fashioned roses, I tripped on the hose (I think) and had the most stunningly instantaneous fall I’ve ever experienced.  Smacked my face on the edge of the 12″ high raised bed, and landed on the nearly-hard-as-pavement stony ground beside it.  Lay on my back for a little bit staring at the drifty clouds in the sky and swearing loudly.  Nose bleeding down the back of my throat, so I slowly hauled myself up and hobbled into the house to administer first aid.  Here’s what my face looked like the following day ~

Technicolor faceWhat’s invisible is a plethora of bruises and swellings on arms and legs, all sore, all colorful.  (Yes, I love color, lots of it, but not in this format.)  The fortunate part is that there are no significant injuries — no eye problem, no broken nose, no bashed-in teeth, not even a cut lip (though I did have two fat lips!).  And of course, since I’m such a tough cookie and had a number of things scheduled, I continued for two days doing everything on the book, until Thursday late afternoon the crash (pun intended) came, and I noticed how utterly wiped out I was feeling.  When my sister used the word “trauma” in an e-mail that evening, I finally got it.  I’ve been taking it easy for three days — really easy — and can feel myself approaching normal energy and verve again.  Reassuring, because when I was at a low point, it felt like I might never make a comeback.   My face looks better, and should by week’s end have devolved to that yucky yellow/green/faded purple which is so unappealing.

And today I notice that my empty loom is beckoning insistently to me, after six days of being ignored.  There’s a warp almost ready to go on, so I’ll be attending to that later today, and will make a progress report in a few days.  It feels great to be returning to active duty.

 

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Categories: Uncategorized | 6 Comments

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6 thoughts on “Forced Rest

  1. Margaret Elwood

    I’m go glad to read that you feel like weaving again. Take it easy, if you can.

  2. Fran abel

    So glad you’re on the heal. Because I was a beneficiary of you keeping on keeping on the first couple days, I must say I’m delighted the trauma took awhile to kick in. I’m equally delighted you finally rested and took care of yourself. Now, no more falls! Ok?

  3. Marci Ameluxen

    Rest up and be well! Glad it wasn’t more serious.

  4. cheryl schaefer

    Wow, Anne. Hated to see you all banged up. Good thing it wasn’t more serious. Gorgeous scarves coming off the loom, but they always are. I was down for a month with a sinus infection that got into my eyes, too. I looked as bad as you, except the eyes and all skin around them were deep red. Okay now. Love, Cheryl

  5. Sue Waters

    6 days certainly beats 7 weeks and counting! I broke my foot, seriously, on summer’s solstice. Oops there went all my plans for dyeing outdoors, weaving and tapestry. Thus I have a lot of empathy for you. You may have observed how nature melded the colors of your bruised face, the only useful purpose for your fall. I’m glad you didn’t get injured more seriously for as a new follower, I have thoroughly enjoyed your writing, honest and witty, full of enthusiasm. Your ability to produce beautiful pieces on your loom is a good inspiration for me. Take care, soon this will be a great story to recall and be grateful that it is now in the past.

    • There have been some who asked me the standard question — “How’s the other guy look?” I was ready for that one, and have consistently replied, flippantly and with a knowing grin “Much worse!”

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