I wanted to journal as soon as I dropped off Julia at school today. Instead, I came home and browsed around the internet letting the postings about 9/11 bounce off or sink beneath my skin. Our Black Tuesday, Pearl Harbor and Kennedy Assassination — our days that changed everything. Why do we need those days to change everything? Why . . . Perhaps I should ask why don’t I change before it is forced upon me. When I get the ‘why’ for me, perhaps I’ll comment on the bigger us.
Fall creeped in today as well. Not creeped, although under cover of darkness. Danced in with trumpets and streamers is more like it. Last shorts worn yesterday, both of us in socks this morning, sweatshirts that will probably stay on all day, wondering whether I will get plants put in the garden before tomorrow’s predicted rain and the slight possibility of frost.
A gray day. Working hard not to let the sad significance of the say stick but damn it is hard when the sky is so dreary and lights need to be turned on at nine in the morning.
A day of tasks preparing for dinner guests by clearing and a vacuum. Wash needs to be folded and then outside to over seed, hoping it is not too late for that, planting new perennials and the Japanese iris I dug up yesterday. Dividing perennials is always a thrill after the work of digging and dividing is finished. What I dug up yesterday was a newly planted patch five years ago that should have been divided last fall.
Each year First Unitarian Society (FUS), our church, has an art show/fair. Art in the Wright Place — Wright because it is held in the space designed by Frank Lloyd. I filled out an application for Julia this year. The summer’s art work lends itself to sale and Julia could work on both money and social skills at the sale. The response to Julia’s tee shirts has been great and more people are asking if they could order one and so, I thought that we could also make some shirts for the fair. However, Julia did not make the cut. The reasoning was that the art fair wants to attract quality artists and customers beyond our congregation. If they open the door to Julia, other kids may want to participate forcing the PTB to pass judgment on kid art. If any kid who applied is accepted, that would change the tenor of the show, professionals will be less likely to want to participate and the fundraising focus will diminish.
The particular power that sent the message also asked if she could order a dancin’ dino shirt because she had only become aware of them when some of the folks around her received them. When I explained that the shirts were part of a limited time fundraiser and that I had hoped to offer some shirts at the art show, she suggested that I check out ways to keep the tees coming. I momentarily thought about it but “the reason for the rule” tapped me on the shoulder.
“Reason for the rule” is short hand for something a law school prof proposed — if the reason for the rule does not apply to a situation, then the rule should not be imposed.
The reason for making more shirts was for Julia to get social skill and money practice with people at the show. Doing any more by mail order doesn’t give her the practice that was intended, and to be honest, although she is thrilled that people are wearing her shirts, she is not impressed that her art is on a shirt. She doesn’t need the ego boost. To keep the shirts coming through some private printing might be only fanning my own vanity. The shirts are fun but I’m not interested in setting Julia up in business just yet. Most of the work would fall on me and I’m not interested in setting up a Julia-related art business just yet. I hate saying ‘no’ to folks who are asking for more shirts, but . . . there is such a pull to get sidetracked by endeavors that slide so far from original purposes.