Chaotically conflicted ~ and sad....

This morning I got some news I didn't want to hear - or think about.  So... I walked my dog.  Dead headed roses...a LOT of roses.  Fed the birds.  Tidied the house....  Used "oxy-clean" on a load of whites that had been in winter storage, garnering a yellow tinge.  It was somewhat successful.  And since B was out working on saving healthcare for all of us... I did this:

Having helped Roo go through her clothes yesterday after work - putting aside things to trash, give away, and repair.  This skirt had a bit of damage at the waist and dead elastic.  Not anymore.  I cut off about three inches and made a new channel threaded with elastic.  Good as new.

This tunic had sentimental value, since Roo purchased it in Greece.  So, I "fixed" the neckline per her request.  My attempt at using my machine's Greek Key stitch worked great in practice but not so well on this thin knit.  Hopefully, she will find it okay.  At least I learned how to create some decorative stitches with my machine for future projects.

Most of the rest of my day was spent recovering this kitty attacked chair for Roo.  I used fabric left over from a skirt I've cut out and the legs from two pairs of pants she was going to toss.  I think it looks okay.  Let's see what you can do with that, Friday!!!

Sew.....why am I conflicted?
I often feel that my sewing is rather self-indulgent.  I mean really!!!  I don't NEED any of the clothes I make.  Children are starving.  People are being poisoned in Syria.  I should be there.  Doing something.  Our elders are living without running water so that they can purchase needed meds, pay their rent.  I should be helping with that.  I recycle.  I garden.  I compost!  I give to a food bank.  I make pretty things.  I work hard to take care of my little peeps and their families.  I read or have read, most books in your local library.  I know the names of plants.  I can cook most anything.  It doesn't mean shit. I want to work with folks like Doctors without Borders.  I want to write the next great American novel.  I want to make a difference.  I want to be Pickles the Fire Cat.  I want Jamie, and Paul, and Adriana, and Josh, and all my other melanoma peeps to be okay.  If I am okay, why can't they be okay?  And I can't do a damn thing.  Jamie was placed on hospice today.

B went through page after page of ASCO publications this afternoon. Forwarding to me those that are most significant.  I will go through them when I can.  Today - I can't.  Maybe tomorrow. - c