Day 60 and face masks

Sewing, especially quilting, is my hobby, my "happy time", my diversion and never more so than during this pandemic quarantine.

When I sew a baby bib or a quilt, I think about the intended recipient while designing the pattern, while pulling the fabric, while cutting and sewing and layering and basting and quilting and binding. It is a meditative and contemplative process wherein I pour my love, happy thoughts and good wishes.

When wearing face masks was mandated for seniors, later for all people in public places, I made one for myself. I did that so I wouldn't be dipping into the limited stock available for front line workers. Then, I made two more which I later gave to my gardener and his wife. Recently, a family member requested several for a special event and I am in the process of finishing those.

 I still try to think about the recipients who are friends and family members but it is difficult and the process becomes more of a chore than the act of love it should be. Love, happy thoughts and good wishes seem to be pushed aside when I sew face masks, to be replaced by rage.

Rage. Not sadness. Rage at the stupidity, cruelty and utter malice of our national government's handling of this pandemic crisis. That home sewists are being asked to do this, like we are still a pre-industrialized nation. That the US in the 21st century is not leading the effort to contain and cure this disease, but is asking citizens to die for an economic bailout that will only benefit some large corporations. That many of our national leaders are politicizing this situation for their own benefit; and that they are enabling a large portion of our citizens to selfishly endanger their neighbors for THEIR own political purposes.

At a time when we have the opportunity to band together against a common enemy, many of our government's leaders are taking the politically expedient low road.

So, if you are a friend or family member and ask me to make you a mask, I will. I will search through my fabrics and pick something pretty and appropriate, just for you. I will work very hard to imbue my work with love, happy thoughts and good wishes for you.

But if you ask me to make 50, or 100, or 500, I will respectfully decline.  For my own well being, for my own mental health, I must limit the rage as much as possible; whether this means refusing to watch the political rallies disguised as presidential press briefings, or ruminating on stupidity, cruelty and malice.

I hope you understand.