June 4, 1977

Okay, after this, can we send them all home?

and this too

June (sigh)

...and so begins our celebration month, forever changed.

Today is Jake's birthday. In a few more days,  what would have been our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary, then  Jim's birthday, Father's Day and Colin's birthday at the end of the month.  I'm gonna have to work hard at this one. One day at a time.

Jimmy would be particularly proud of how Jake has stepped up to being a good man, a good husband, and soon, a good father.

off roading

I got a little bored with my trek yesterday morning and took an unmarked cutoff through the woods. (cue the scary music)

after a quarter mile or so, what I had hoped was the rough sketch for a new trail back to the park turned into what could easily be the setting for any Zombie movie.

I was well into this zone before I realized that I was alone on the darkside of the moon. I didn't investigate anything here more closely: I didn't really want to know what might be lurking so I pressed on,  picked up the raw trail on the other side of the desolation zone and made my way back to the park only mildly freaked out. Next time, I'll bring a film crew.

Shop update

There's a new batch of hand dyed threads in the store.

It's all I have time for right now...

Le mot juste

Yesterday was full of blessings.

A big item came off my "to do, or get done" checklist..you know the kind of checklist that rides around on your shoulder like a poorly trained monkey, picking at your hair and harassing strangers in public. Thanks to both my sons.

Then the mail brought reminders that, although I have cut myself off from the world at large for big chunks of the day, there are  people who think about me and the caring comes through.

I am deeply grateful for all of you.

The mail brought gifts! There was a box of very precious vintage linens and another with inspirational art and seeds to help my poor bedraggled garden.  Thank you N & D.

The translation of the title of this post is "the exact right word or phrasing". Of course, right is  always a matter of opinion, but the only one I'm counting now is my own.  I'm finding that, although there is nothing instinctual about writing fiction the way I used to work in cloth and thread, finding those right words is even more compelling.

My only complaint is, that like working on a piece for Quilt National,  not much can be revealed before the piece is not only finished but juried in.

The process of picking and choosing those right words reminds me of the many times I spent hours stitching away or embellishing something only to take a step back and a hard look and then pick it all out and start over.

You all know what that's like, but I get to do it now without pictures.