thanks

Just a quick note of thanks to everyone who commented here and to those who reached out to me privately. 

To better days, lots of them.

not depression

I'm coming to terms with the fact that there will always be sets of cues or circumstances that will just plain rip my heart open. Yesterday was one of them. I was well enough to venture out for some provisions. Just before leaving, I missed a call on the cell. It was from someone who I haven't heard from in too long. Someone who never called me or acknowledged Jimmy's passing. It hurt then and I let it go. The missed call took me right back to square one.

After venting to my dear sister long distance, I decided that any further negativity would not serve anything. I couldn't be angry. I just didn't have the sap for it.

The outing wiped me out and I came home and crawled under the covers too sick and sad and sorry for myself to even cry. I missed Jimmy so much. His caring, his love, his concern for my well being. I have been out of reserves and running on empty. I was tired of being tough. It would be too much like work to lay down and die. The only thing that kept me going was that my grandson was coming to spend the day the next day. I was needed. And needed in shape to handle the day. So I washed my face and made a point of getting a good night's rest. Safe to say, this little scrap of life is saving mine.

Charlie was five months old on the first of the year and growing and changing while I watch. From the very first time I held him I felt my husband's love, down through our son, to this child and if no one is around, I have a little cry for myself. A joy cry.

Trouble is, I have to stop it somehow because today, Charlie caught me and I could see concern and confusion on his little face. It was quite remarkable. He almost always greets me with a smile. First comes the recognition and then, the emotion, he's happy to see me.

Now I watch him examining faces for cues before he reacts. Already he knows that it's not all about him. He's rolling over in all directions and will probably stand and walk before he's any good at crawling, just like his Daddy and his uncle. .

So after the lunch jug today, he fussed a little and I tucked him up under my chin. I can feel his whole body relax and give over to his need for rest. He heaved a sigh, patted me on the left shoulder three time, crammed his right hand into my cleavage and was asleep. I'll cry now kiddo. Quietly.

Lost Weekend Redux

Dispiriting is putting it mildly.

I don't even care enough to feel bad about it. Since midday Thursday I am simply taking up space and resources. It was only three weeks ago that I suffered a whole week of being sick. I can't tell cold from flu. It hardly matters once it's on you. If  boogers were gold I'd be rich, rich, rich.

Amazon Prime has disgorged a heap of new books that I can't open my eyes wide enough to read and this is as much as I can manage with my new wireless keyboard,  the old one dispatched by a strategically placed cat hurk.

When I finally figured out that  the new season of Downton Abby would not be airing last night (or did it?) I went back to the bed. 

I knew I couldn't read or type so the only thing I had with me was a yellow legal pad and a pencil. How much harm could I do? I wanted to think about my other novel, the one I started first. Think in organizational terms. It's no wonder the name on my Christmas stocking read “Fool”.

There was one line on the pad this morning – don't forget your purpose –   followed by a rather ominous void. I don't know if  I was writing about writing or life. I still don't and I still don't have any answers. 

But this morning I am able to take a whole breath, stand up long enough to put away some clean dishes and type this up. I'm alive and there's a mission out there somewhere. 

the sun beckoned me into the studio but the view was depressing.

studio in post holiday chaos

to the new year

"Live in the moment, remember the past, dream for the future"

2014 was a difficult year. Necessarily transformational. There were many lows, but the highs shine the brightest.  There will be many more radical changes going forward. I've come to recognize how spoiled I was by the stability of my old life. Now, being primary caretaker for this little guy trumps all other concerns.
I am so honored and blessed.

As to working with fiber, I still just don't know.

At the very least I will be taking advantage of a glut of raw materials and be dying vintage cloth and threads for other fiber artists. Gal's gotta make a living, still.

The writing goes forward. Talk about uncharted territory! All I keep seeing about writing and publishing is - there are no RULES! Baloney.

No matter what medium you are working in you have to know the rules before you can do a good job of breaking them.

Eye surgery success

Not me, the great spotted cat.

It's been requested that a change be made. Seems like he's a little too creepy . The red color and the wonky shapes were hasty choices anyway so, no worries....something in blue maybe. And some cat whiskers.





.....Meh...