Melbourne is sure to be colder than Sydney, so packing needs to be done with care, and to not take too many things. By the time I load the camera, the warmer clothes, some reading matter, some quince jelly to give to the quince jelly appassionati, the chargers for the various entertainment thingies, my small bag is most likely to be bulging. I do tend to overpack. I need to take some crochet with me, so that my hands do not succumb to unaccustomed idleness and boredom. As I will have to lug myself and my bags on and off trams, I do not want to carry too much stuff.
I have been in low spirits, due to solitude during the break between classes, etcetera, and to the likelihood that my daughter intends to move further away, and thus I am likely to see less of her and her children. It is not that I think that children ought to conduct their lives according to the needs and desires of their parents - life and nature does not work that way - it is just that I wonder about the rest of my life. Is making quince jelly and cumquat jam, and crocheting blankets for people in refugee camps the best way of coping with the later stages of life? Apart from being good things, in themselves, to do?And at what stage do you become a burden on society? At least I can still sing - I think if I lost that the joy in life would dwindle substantially.
Today I had another lesson at the Apple Store, and this went well. My classes tend to hop and lurch all over the place, as I know a little about a number of things, and tend to learn incrementally. Thank goodness the teachers are patient and adaptable.
I have been investigating the amount of fabric and yarn I have, and came to the conclusion that most of the fabric needs to be donated to a good home. Although I think I can crochet quite a lot more, sewing appeals much less, and the lovely woollens, linens, cottons and silks are not likely to be used. They need good homes. There is also quite a lot of hand painted silk fabric, but I can't think of what to do with it. Inspiration is needed.