Early this morning, my friend awoke from a strange dream to discover there was no power in his apartment. Several hours later, the power was still out, and stranger still, he had no cell service. When he walked outside, he saw no people, and no cars on the street. The rain was coming down in sheets, and the grey skies and powerless, peopleless neighborhood gave off a sense of impending doom. He theorized that his ground-floor apartment with its large windows would provide him little protection from possible Zombie Attack. Luckily his car was still working, so he picked me and the baby up and we proceeded to the Wayward Cafe for a lovely brunch with friends.
After he dropped me off at home, I settled in for a crafty afternoon, keeping an eye out for zombies. Delayed my start on projects when I broke a lightbulb in the bathroom, prompting a thorough and overdue cleaning. Afterwards, marched out to the garage with the baby and dug through boxes for colored lights and fabric scraps, bent on finding materials with which to begin our family’s particular tradition of holiday celebratory decorating, the themes of which we are still hammering out, as a Buddhist/Agnostic family with a distaste for rabid consumption descended from a blend of secular Judeo-Christian-Pagan-esque traditions. C. is fussy and fights sleep for a long time, reducing my grand plans to a tiny embroidery project. Eventually he falls asleep, clutching the feet of his too-long pajama pants to his chest, which gives him the appearance of having bizzarely crippled legs.
I leap into action, busting out the sewing machine and busily stitching doll pieces together. Its a simple pattern (I just scribbled an outline on a piece of paper. Easy peasy, requiring less than 3 minutes of planning, like all my sewing projects). Dutifully, I sew the pieces together inside out, so the seam won’t show. Do some stitch-ripping and resewing. Begin to turn doll right-side out.
Discover my prototype was so small, its nearly impossible to convince the fabric right-side out-again. Become frustrated. Attempt to create better workspace lighting. Blow a fuse. Visit the breakerbox in the rain. Return to my finger-cramping task. While using a pencil to attempt to unfurl the doll’s legs and arms, I break off first the pencil eraser inside the doll, then the pencil. Realize I’ve got to make a bigger doll, or this is never going to work. The baby wakes up, and I abandon the project.
I peer out the front window, where a gang of large neighborhood squirrels and several local ravens are busily dissecting the assorted garden squash that have been decorating our front porch since I harvested them last month. I’d planned to make soups and pies and breakfast sautees with them, but they froze and then thawed into mush after the snowstorm last month, and the animals have discovered the seeds to be an easy-access meal. I’ve been meaning to shovel the mush into the compost, but don’t have the heart to deprive the animals of a winter-snack they seem to enjoy. (Actually, I’m mostly just lazy, and have other things to do with my limited time during C-naps. Like give myself finger cramps while swearing at poorly planned sewing projects). I suppose the result will be random delicatas, sugar pumpkins and acorn squash sprouting up all over the yard and neighborhood. Which is great, frankly.
Get the babe back to sleep, and regard my abandoned too-small new-holiday-tradition doll project, still half-way outside in. I’m not giving up yet. After checking in with the news, which is promising political, educational, and flooding-related apocalypse, I opt to remain mostly irreverent about this mostly-ordinary rainy Sunday. At least the Zombies haven’t showed up yet.
photograph of our as-of-yet-un-zombie family by Andrea Fuentes-Diaz.