Refuelling. Or, it's the process, not the product.

I confess. I've been a grumpy grumpleston. For WEEKS now. Mr S keeps alternating between gently asking me what's wrong and making unsubtle hints that perhaps I could fix whatever's making me grumpy. Then there was this morning, where he said 'Can you please try to be happy? You have a very nice life you know. You know?' Between the gastro that will not die and Terrible-Twos-But-I'm-Only-One M... I need more sleep. I don't make time for more sleep. I need some craft time. I don't make craft time. This is all a product of my own doing.

But he's right - things around here are actually Very Nice. So I found some things to smile about (the gorgeousness that is M in a shopping trolley with her handbag on, swinging her feet and grinning) and bought some soul food (two varieties of hot cross buns and an unholy amount of Easter eggs), came home, lit the fire, put M to bed and forgot about the housework.

Well, that's not strictly true. I did the bare minimum of washing up and toys away whilst M was awake. Then it was ME time.

I've been reading a lot of posts about creativity and having 'me' time as a parent, and I thought I had it licked. I tried really hard to love housework and find some occasional time for crafty pursuits. I have a laser focus at times, and housework became my laser focus. Except I'm really quite bad at housework, so it kind of became my laser focus. I abhor cleaning the bathroom so much I leave it until the sink becomes a personality all on it's own and threatens to eat the hand towels... But I found myself pondering the best way to clean the light switches, with a nail brush or a sponge? (the jury is still out, I haven't tried a nail brush yet.)

But I forced myself to cut out a bag pattern and start creating again. I left it in full view on the craft table  but over this week it got covered in bills, and M's daycare bag and some craft books. This morning I put the already paid bills in the fire and M's bag on the floor.

I switched Radio National on because I'm old like that and started sewing. And kept sewing. M kept sleeping. I threw some more wood on the fire and kept sewing.

And this appeared.
Teal Butterfly Clutch Bag, based upon Cuada design.
Whilst I love the butterfly fabric, this one's not for me. It's not really my style. Is it for you? Do you want it to be? It'll eventually wind up in my imaginary Etsy shop for sale. *

I felt a sense of completion and an amazing sense of calm. Relaxed and able. The rain is pouring, wind howling, but the house is warm and I can hear the radio in the background. A simple time. A quiet time.

Sewing isn't necessarily always about the product, but it's the process. It's the same as songwriting in a way, (which I've been doing a spot of recently too...), but songwriting is more a cathartic experience, to craft and tell a story. Something about sewing is more rote and mindless.

It makes me feel restored. I've had a brilliant couple of hours that has made me feel like I've stolen some time back and I feel a little more like me.

Tell me, how do you refuel? Is it the process or the product? Why is the sky blue?

*This Teal Butterfly Clutch Bag is $30 + $6.60 PH. Handmade with love. A brilliant gift.