Too Many Irons

"One reference says it has to do with the blacksmith trade. A skilled blacksmith has "a well-trained apprentice who maintains such control of the bellows and the placement of the irons that each is ready in turn at the anvil and hammer...'Too many irons in the fire' would mark an inefficient smith or one with an unskilled apprentice. Figurative use of either saying takes us back only to the middle of the sixteenth century." From "2107 Curious Word Origins, Sayings & Expressions from White Elephants to a Song and Dance" by Charles Earle Funk (Galahad Book, New York, 1993)."

As a self-employed craftsperson, I frequently have many irons in the fire.  Just now for example?

Craft fair production.  With the craft fair season beginning in October, I have had to keep an eye on my inventory of hand woven textiles, try to gauge how many place mats, table runners, tea towels, scarves and shawls I might possibly need for the three shows I am doing this year.  I need to have sufficient selection of colours and designs to appeal to a variety of people.  Too little and there isn't enough choice.  Too many?  There is never 'too many'.  Ever. So I am pressing forward trying to increase my inventory of shawls from zero to...something...and scarves to a better selection of colours.

Conference planning.  We have been working on the conference for several years, lining up facilities, lining up presenters, working on event details.  

Teaching.  This year I taught four Olds classes, one on the west coast, two on the east coast, one in Alberta.  There was marking to be done and I am waiting for the last box of homework from 2018 to arrive in order to mark that one.  I also taught a 5 day class on the east coast and will teach one two day class plus guild program next month on the west coast.  All of those classes required preparation, about two days prep for each class.  No matter how many times I teach a class, there is always about two days prep for each.  Not to mention doing travel bookings.

Writing.  I write for this blog frequently - sometimes every day.  I also do the posts for the conference blog and other marketing such as the Facebook page for the conference.  For the past 5 going on 6 years I have been working on the book manuscript.  Right now the ms is in the able hands of an editor I trust, partly because her job is editing technical writing but also because she is a weaver and spinner and will not be gutting the ms of the stuff that I think is important.  We hope to hit publish on Dec. 2.

I have also contributed to a Handwoven 'look book' - two in fact, just submitted an article for SS&D (which may - or may not - be accepted - but I still spent a couple of days writing it) and will have another article in Handwoven's upcoming issue.

And all of the past two years I was dealing with cancer related fatigue, then adverse effects of the 'miracle' cancer drug I am now taking daily.

I have been doing this and many other things (weaving for a fashion designer for nine years, dyeing and retailing yarns, writing and publishing Magic in the Water, achieving the master certificate from the Guild of Canadian Weavers, etc.).  

I call myself a professional because this is how I earn my money.

But.  But.  I am now 68 years old in, shall we say, not exactly robust health.  When I started weaving I thought I would weave and sell my work for 25 years, which would bring me to the age of 50.  Then I would teach for 25 years.  Instead I did both, right from the get-go.  

I find that I'm tired.  I'm tired of being a travel agent, tired of dealing with flights with tight connections, tired of, quite frankly, selling myself.  Taking the cancer drug just makes me tired, period.

But I am also not done with weaving.  I have a stash that seems to go on forever and I really don't want to leave a weaving 'estate' that will be a burden for my family/friends to deal with.  I've heard of way too many stories of stashes that take up entire houses, or that get loaded up and taken to the dump.

I want to use up my yarns, not have them go into a land fill.  I want to see some of the ideas floating through my head come into physical reality.  I want people to find my work attractive, enough to pay for it to grace their homes and wardrobes.

So I have, over the past couple of years, begun removing some of the irons from my personal fire (energy well).  I have begun calling myself semi-retired.  I have begun to conserve my energy for the things I find important, now.

I no longer have to scramble for income every month.  My house is paid for, my wants are few.  

For the next year there will be four classes of homework to mark (I don't expect every person in every class to submit homework, but four classes of 10-12?  That's a lot of marking.)  There may, or may not, be four classes next year (I doubt that all four will proceed to the next level, but you never know.)  There is the conference.  There is Olds Fibre Week - for which I may - or may not - be asked to teach level one again.

One of the things that outsiders don't understand is the level of uncertainty involved in being a professional teacher/weaver.  With such a high level of uncertainty about events going ahead - or not - my strategy has always been to grab onto every opportunity presented to me, then scramble like mad to meet the deadlines.  For the things that get cancelled?  I would focus on the next.  And sometimes be grateful for the cancellation so that I could take a deep breath and carry on.

Well, I am tired of that, too.  At 68, after a life time of scrambling, I get to step back.  I get to step aside and let other, younger, people take on the writing, the teaching, the space at the craft fairs.  Because everyone has something to contribute.  None of us are the same.  We all have different experiences, different approaches to creativity/design.  We all have ourselves to contribute to the community.

It has been a struggle to accept that I am tired.  But I am.  And that's quite ok.  As they say in Newfoundland - it's been a time.  And hopefully will be for some time yet.