A Piecing of Time

In early morning, I pull the summer’s weeds while redirecting a particularly bitey puppy. At lunch, I draw sketches on scratch paper - one for the cabinet maker, the other for the metal smith. In late afternoon, while a blessed rain soaks the earth, I turn the oven on, and with local eggs and vegetables, I bake a quiche. Then, into the still-warm oven, I slide a spice cake. I snap photos. I think about what I’ll write in this week’s blog post. 

In the day’s longer stretches, I open notes, drawings, and files, for design projects here and there - space planning, materials selections, function, beauty - the makings of living well. Manifesting the experience of home, fitted and bespoke, for those who dwell in them.

This is life’s bits and pieces, work of one kind stitched between the work of another, a piecing of time. It’s not one day, but it is every day. The work of living alongside the living work. Pull weeds while the puppy is circling the lawn. Draw lines at my drafting board. Schedule the window washers. Purge a drawer. Select a light fixture. Like change in a jar, it all adds up. It’s how, in a winding sort of way, things are accomplished. The fragmented becoming a beautiful mosaic; the scraps, a beautiful quilt.