Inconsolable

I haven’t felt this much disappointment and heaviness of heart in a very long time.  You see, my long awaited Watson Marie spinning wheel was dropped off on my doorstep at the cottage this afternoon.  And I do mean dropped.  Somewhere during its trip from Ontario, Canada, to my little cottage on Whidbey Island in Washington state, it was dropped.  It dropped so hard that the packing box broke.  So hard that the wheel broke.  So hard that the spindles of the wheel are dangling within the packing box.

This came upon a whole series of “unfortunate events.”  If I were The Harlot, I could probably write something terribly witty and amusing, but right now, I can’t bear to talk more about all the mishaps these past few days.  For now, I just need to sit in a corner, with a drink, and try and find my happy place.  But if you know me, you also know that my happy place often involve a spinning wheel.  And, that, my dears, I just can’t bear right now.  Spinning on my Lendrum just won’t be the same when the broken Marie and her packing box is at the other end of the room.

At least this explains why UPS didn’t even bother to knock on the door to let me know that they’ve delivered it.

Update: I’ve spoken with both Andrew and James.  We are going to coordinate returning the wheel to James, since he’s just across the border.  But the heavy knot still sits in my chest.

Happy place, damn it.  Where’s that happy place?!