I packed up my sewing machine, thread, needles, thimbles, scissors, etc. Already I'm going into mental withdrawal. I do have a little packet of 2x2 squares with one needle, one thimble, one spool of thread and a tiny scissors so I can do hand work if I get shaky. No, I don't think it's going to come to that. I'm going to do the apartment building version of a garage sale, from which I expect little response but no harm in trying. I'd love to lighten the burden of quilts -- find homes for a few more. Will put up announcements in elevators and laundry room with pix of quilts and reminders about mother's day being on the way.
Meanwhile the packing is moving along at a good clip. It's just the books -- so many, many books. Long ago when I last moved I had the same problem. Complaining to a friend, "They're good books, the price couldn't be lower" -- I was willing to give them away as I am now. Said she, "You've got to realize most people already have a book." In other words, got-ta realize I'm the nut case with my endless desire for books and all that is in them. Many of the big beautiful ones went to a good thrift store this week. That not only lightens the burden but makes me feel better. And my collection of the Quilting Arts magazines also went to a good home -- a real art quilter who showed me her latest creation which was very nice. Now I must change my subscription address. Without sewing there are still plenty of things to do!
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!