Rest Day Work

Slow stitching on a rest day. sewing in progress.

Beep. Off went the air-conditioner, I walked out of my bedroom. I found hubby sitting at the balcony. The temperature is cooler than usual. The birds are singing on the young tree in front of our apartment. I wished i knew the lyrics so i can sing along.

I gathered my rest day package and sat across the man reading The guardian on my ex-macbook. Coffee, check. ipad, check. Pincushion which should really be called needle cushion, check. Textile animal parts, check. Sound mind, optional.

With a fabric rhino head in one hand, and a threaded needle in the other, I brought the two together, repeatedly. Wrinkles started to form on what is intended to be the body of a baby rhino doll.

The folds on the unassuming cotton knit begins to echo the grains on the small folded table top. A speck of spilled ground coffee began to move. It must be time for a second expresso. The speck moved up the plant pot, climbed onto a leave. It is an ant. Still need coffee, nonetheless. My eyes followed until I lost sight of the unsolicited tenant to the soil.

The man have magically reappeared with another freshly brewed coffee. And I am feeling warm and giddy. The usual heat is back. it is almost 11am. Rhino is still limbless, but sufficiently wrinkled for a baby.
half sewn rhino textile doll

I continued stitching away, loosing count of the hours passed, and coffees had. This is my kind of rest day.


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