The Art of Milling

Milling about the house is a favorite activity of mine. Like a butterfly – alight on this, alight on that, and generally while away the afternoon. Milling is my antidote to a more pernicious tendency to constantly do something: wash, wipe, dust, clear, straighten, pick-up, put-away, and on and on until I’ve exhausted myself. Hardly a recipe for cozy. A cozy life requires a balance between the have-tos and love-tos. And in that middle ground is milling.

I sometimes watch our two older kitties, tired from napping, get up and walk around the house. Here, there, around the dining table, into the bedrooms, along the hallway, with no clear direction or intention. Milling. I find myself doing the same thing. Eventually we find our way to a more focused activity, but I think the milling is an important pathway. Sortof like the twists in a jelly roll. Without them you’d have an ordinary layer cake.

That reminds me of absolutely nothing.

Here’s boy kitty looking particularly marvelous in the late afternoon sun. A monochromatic masterpiece poised to attack the moment I rub his belly.

***

The workroom has undergone a tidying. It’s a strange phenomenon that when I tidy, I inevitably lose something. In this case, the foot pedal of my sewing machine. It must’ve happened when I moved it to vacuum. Now it’s gone. I hope I find it soon because there’s a bundle of quilt blocks that need sewing.

In the thick of tidying I’ve tossed a few favorite autumny fabrics onto the cutting mat. These colors remind me of falling leaves, which remind me of a new quilt block pattern we’ve been working on for Trellis & Thyme. I’d like to say it will launch soon, but there’s that mystery of the missing foot pedal…

I’m due for a cup of tea and a quick ponder over the merits of clumping versus rambling bamboo. It’s nothing serious – just one of those things you think about.

‘Till next time.