the fineness of the day

Wild violets, I think. They are everywhere in the upper reaches of the lawn where there is sunshine. I never noticed them before.

Got out for a quick drive to drop off some things to a friend who shouldn't go out for a while.

The action in the parking lot reminded me of  "Let's Sell/Buy Drugs" from way back in the day.  Two cars parked ten feet apart, facing in opposite directions. Drivers at the wheel. The principals get out, each proceeds to the opposite vehicle's trunk, keys handed over by the respective drivers. Goods and cash inspected and approved. Transfers made, keys returned and off we go, whistling.

I've been cranking out kitchen stuff between calls, using up the odds and ends of cotton string. They make good potholders, placemats, dish scrubbers - whatever.

How wonderful to be so plain, so solid, so useful.

I settled in to do some stitching, watch a little TV. Sweetie jumped up on the bed, turned over the little river basket and proceeded to examine the contents.
She has a seething resentment over her lack of thumbs.

Sweetie joined us in 2009 and is enjoying her status as Dowager Queen of the household. We indulge her every whim.

The coyotes are barking out in the woods behind the house and all three cats hover nearby, pretending to sleep, one eye open.

Makers make

Charlie did this drawing over a year ago. It's been hanging on the refrigerator all that time. In crayon, I tried ironing it onto the fabric but nothing transferred, so I'm stitching right through the paper with the idea that I'll be able to pick or wash it away when I'm done.

Bad idea? Hasty? Just a few small rebellions when you're stuck in the house and time seems both short and long.

I don't know why I was being coy about where and how much purple to use. Now that I think about it, if I wind up in the pest house at least they will remember the lady with purple hair if they can't remember or manage my name.

The whole time my husband was in treatment for cancer and when he was here at home, I was with him. More often than not, holding his hand to the last moments and beyond. The thought of someone I love and care about having to be in the hospital alone is more than I can bear to think about. Any and all distractions are welcome.

And to the point of being out of time or coy, I give you this.

the hardest part

It's been twelve days since I spent the day with Charlie. He was sick with a small fever a week ago Monday - back before a fever was terrifying. It was gone Tuesday morning, and he was fine and has been fine, but by the school rules, he had to stay home so I spent the day with him. It was the first day that he's missed school all term.

I didn't know then it would be the last visit we'd have for a while since we've all agreed that it's safest for everyone to limit our circles of contact.

We facetime, but I get the feeling that young children expect more from an electronic device than facetime with Nana can give. There are no big hugs, no silly business or fart noises. I miss him terribly. There is so much I still have to teach him. Learn from him.

I'm having a good cry along with "Yentl". Each and every time I watch it. 

Warm winds

I got out in the sun today and got the rest of the bigger sticks off the lawn in preparation for the long-overdue first mowing. By 230 it was nap city.

All the windows were open. Soft warm breezes were lurking in the curtains. The deep chimes on the high deck were very soft, almost apologetic. I didn't drift off, I dropped like a rock. Good sleep.

When I woke up, I realized how warm it was. 79 degrees out at the peak today. Warm enough to start thinking about the first dye fest of the season. It may not happen tomorrow, but soon.

As I work the phones tonight, I'm winding thread between calls. Tonight, I'll dream in color.

And did you see these wonders? Huzzah The Bucklings of the Hill!

afternoon drift

At first, I wished that I had planned this one better. Now, I'm forced into a way to insert some really rich profanity. White on white, maybe.

I never really minded the hermit life because it was by choice and I knew there was all manner of crazed doings going on out in the world- parties, parades, flash mobs, drive bys- you know, Life.

Now it's disturbing. Our town has a curfew.

I don't want to dwell on imagined outcomes, but I inherited a lot of hard times angst from that same grandmother who taught me embroidery. Not that she ever complained.

They did what they had to do. Tenant farmers during the Great Depression. She would take slivers of soap, soften them, then press them together into a multi-colored lump to keep on soaping. Teabags used all day long. Real rag rugs.

 This morning I set up online shopping for two different grocery stores. It took two to find the things I wanted.

It was good to see the stores limiting the quantities of things people can buy. You pick a time window, they bag it up, email you when it's ready, you pull up and they drop it in your trunk.

Two twenty pound bags of their favorite dry food and another forty pounds of cat litter was the find.

Knowing that at least Salem (the black and white one) and this demon know how to kill stuff and go to the bathroom outside is comforting.  He gets very pissy when I try to pry him out of the sewing chair.

It's my day off. Stop looking at me like that.