No, sometimes procrastination is not the worst thing in the world.

Esteemed correspondent Laurie Kingston of Not Just About Cancer has a beautiful post today all about one instance of procrastination making room for serendipity.  Turns out the blanket she's knit but never pieced together is going to make an amazing cover for her forthcoming book.  Can't wait to see it.

Meanwhile, since I remain both disgustingly self-absorbed and wracked with guilt over a plethora of personal failures, looking at a picture of her lovely if as yet unfinished blanket naturally reminded me of my own unfinished afghan that I've been mostly not working on for the last five years.  (And for now, we're just going to gloss right over the novel I haven't been working on for the past two or three.)

One of the things about this afghan that so grieves me is that when I started it I had three cats, all deceased now, all of whom I loved more than my own life, and all of whose fur has been worked into the fabric along with stray hairs from both me and my true love.  (You can't work with fiber in an un-sterile environment and not end up incorporating samples of all the fiber floating around in that environment, at least not without a whole lot more skill and care than I can ever employ.)  Though each enjoyed rolling around and napping on my squares as I finished them and set them in stacks next to me while I worked, it causes me pain to think about how none of them lived to enjoy napping cozily in and on the completed article.  They would have loved it, each of them and all of them together, if I could only have gotten it put together sooner.

The little squares are jammed into zippered plastic bags while they wait for me to decide I have the time to figure out the order in which I want to sew them.  They've been packed up like this since I last wrote about them.  Every time I look at them, I get sad.

Or, I used to until very recently.  Not so much anymore.  (Click to enlarge.)

Yes, Laurie. Sometimes procrastination pays off in unexpected ways.  (Click to enlarge.)

Still hoping to finish this beast someday, of course -- and yes, I mean the afghan, not Sam; Sam can stick around just as he is for as long as he likes.  But if I never do, at least I'll have gotten to see someone enjoying its innate coziness at every stage of its development, even pillowy stagnation.

Comments

[laurie]

OK- now you've made me spit out my latte AND weep today. And you have 1,000 more squares than I have. I am awed.

[Sara]

I promise that if you visit the potato post preceding this one, any residual tears and/or awe will evaporate instantly. (Remember, that's what I've been doing instead of accomplishing stuff.) Can't guarantee the safety of any remaining latte, however. ;)

[Kay Olson]

Sam maybe has affectionate feelings for his predecessors.

I, for one, am in favor of a rethinking of procrastination in any way that makes me feel like less of a slug.

[laurie]

I had already visited the potato post, of course. Am tempted to say that the heart v. dangly bits perspective may be influenced by the presence (or lack thereof) of a y chromosome. Will conduct a survey with the boys here and let you know.
Or maybe they don't need any encouragement.

[aura]

Two comments: For one, I am very glad that you are posting every day. I have been over worked and over stressed with financial and health issues and it is great to read your stuff again.

For two, I have a procrastination story. My dear grandmother had truly stunning furniture that was made by her father and mother and given to my grandparents as a wedding gift. (My great grandfather was, by vocation, a maker of fine furniture. My great grandmother needle pointed the upholstery.)

When she was about 85, my grandmother decided that all six pieces of furniture needed refinishing and that she would do it personally. She would not use electric tools, all of the sanding and painting would be done by hand. When she was not even half way through, at about 87, she had to have triple by-pass surgery. Before the surgery she fretted most about not finishing the furniture. "What if something happens to me during surgery, who will finish the furniture?" Well, she came through with flying colors and continued working on the furniture.

She had other ailments that landed her in the hospital for several years thereafter. Every time it was the same problem, "What about the furniture? I hate to leave you children with unfinished furniture!" But she always came through, strong as ever.

When she was about 94, she moved to a smaller apartment and I got all of the marvelous furniture! Finally, all of it was finished except for lacquering the top of one of the chests of drawers. Even the sanding was finished,and it just needed the painting. She gave me the lacquer and the brushes and entrusted me with the task of finishing.

I got that furniture 9 years ago and my grandmother passed away about 8 years ago. I still haven't finished lacquering . As a matter of fact, though I love and admire the workmanship of that furniture EVERY day, until I read your post, I had forgotten that it needed finishing! I have wondered if that unfinished project, that was so tremendously important to her, helped keep my grandmother healthy and strong. In any case, I have inherited the procrastination.

[aura]

OOPS, forgot the ending... After a long and hard week, here I am, writing and reading, and procrastinating about making dinner!

[Sara]

Kay: I think Sam just likes the sun patch that warms that wool-filled plastic bag every morning at about 10:00 a.m. As for feeling like a slug, I hear you. And we slugs must support each other -- you know, when it isn't too much trouble. ;)

Laurie: I am absolutely positive it is a Y chromosome thing, and yes it comes naturally, and no they don't need encouragement. See, I never saw the dangly bits, just the deformed heart or, when flipped, the odd-looking pecking bird with a pronounced limp, until my true love revealed his own vision to me. Yeah. He got there all on his own, and I would never have gotten there at all without him.

Aura: As someone who also grew up in Southern California, you probably went to Disneyland a lot as a kid, too. No matter how early we went, though, or how many times, we were never able to do everything we wanted in one trip. "That's okay," my mom would say. "It'll give you something to look forward to for next time."

As you know, I don't think life has a "next time." However, it is nice to have things to look forward to, and yes I do believe the very prospect of such things is far more likely to help keep us going than having none, regardless of the weight of the guilt.

[aura]

Sorry, I still didn't see the dangling bits, even after looking really closely.

[kathy a.]

love this post! i am the procrastination queen, having more unfinished sewing projects than i can even find anymore. and i got so far behind on the crocheting that i gave several unfinished pieces and extra yarn to a church-lady group, on accounta, who doesn't need a lap blanket when they feel sick?

but the last few weeks, i've been making happy quilts! woo hoo! for a little girl who just got a liver transplant, her baby cousin who had a terrible condition and needed some kind of heart/lung ugly machine for a while [but he went home a bit ago!], and her younger sister, who has been home with relatives during all the hospital excitement.

so -- quite a few invisible internet friends sent fabric! and i used a lot of fabric from abandoned former sewing projects, too.

my cats played a critical role in the proceedings, guarding the fabric and keeping it warm. young spot, in particular, was vigilant! some other cats may come and go according to the sunbeams, but spot really kept things on track. he's really sad that i put the extra fabric away.