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I look out this window each morning when I draw in the marks book or stitch. It helps.

Still using the same black ink pen….it seems to have an endless supply of ink in its barrel.

Not too many more pages and the Marks Book will be filled. Still thinking stitched pieces added to the next Marks book. They could be tied onto the blank pages. Maybe words/drawings…maybe not.

Speaking of stitching, all seven of my night critters are finished with the bat this past week.

Now what in the world do I do with them?!

This week I had my annual physical…more of an emotional breakdown than physical. I told the doctor not to be nice…nice just opens up a flood. But it was good. I am healthy, just stressed at times with having to deal with daily life and Lee. I was assigned the responsibility of at least checking out possible places for him to go next. And it helps talking to those working at assisted care homes for memory problems. Next week I will try to tour at least one.

I want our kids to be able to visit him here when their Covid shots are complete. We live in an area of no small amount of ignorance combined with arrogance so mask wearing seems optional for many even though the virus is on the rise. What used to be a fondly called Clays Corner here in Brasstown is more of a QAnon Corner now with their Trump signs still proudly on display. It is creepy to say the least whenever I drive by.

Yesterday I received a note from a total stranger out west who reads my blog. She just wanted to say she finds my patience and strength amazing. Thank you. I don’t feel very strong this week but it is coming.

I also think I need to pare down my belongings. So much of what I have could be better put to use with those still more active in the arts. First I toss out the completely useless, then have my kids take what they want and give what’s left away or have it dumped into recycling or just the dump.

Why do we think we can just keep on the way we used to?

I will likely sell my home and find a simpler place to live. But that is further down the line. And this house is extremely far from being “showable” as nowadays the realtors want it looking like a blank slate when they show it. Thank god I have an offer to climb the ladder and clean the shelves of treasures of travel and craft items. What was I thinking?! But it was the focal point of a western North Carolina living magazine a few years back.

Good grief! And just think of what my closets must look like. I need to get busy.

I did start another short story that I have no idea where it is going but the first five hundred words were fun to write. Here is the opening paragraph of The Blue Collector.

Sara is quite sure it started on her eighth birthday. One of the candles on her cake was blue, bright blue. She made her wish, blew the candles out and quickly pocketed the blue one. Later she would wash off the frosting, trim the burnt wick and place it in the secret drawer of her music box. This was a very good color this blue. It wasn’t the baby boy blue, all powdery looking, and darker than a clear day’s sky blue, but not a blue like the sea. It was somehow brighter. It dazzled. This blue was a blue to watch for.

Til later….

Spring is here ! Our yard this past two days.

We lifted the snake out of the sunken ground so he sits up on top of the Spring ground.

I am working at getting the grounds all finished off for when the time comes to maybe move some place else. When family arrives after their covid shots, they will help pack up some of the things that just seem so very unnecessary. My god, why did I think I could not live without them!!

I dream of blank walls with only the the artworks and artifacts that make me smile and happy I have them. So much is just there because it always was.  Not “clutter” but getting very close. When cooking at the stove I look across the living room and see that huge bowl full of Christmas cards from the last ten years or so…why? Good Grief! Throw them out! And those things that you have because you actually thought an old friend was thinking about your tastes…not because she was simply cleaning out her own closets. Another Good Grief! Time to purge. Time to get some control.

Anyway I am still trying to get to the end of the sketch book.

The heating pad! Why? Nothing else within reach.

Cats…out of reach!

I am thinking the next book should have stitched scraps in it. I can stitch pieces to then stitch into the book…add some writings, maybe. There is so little time to work in the books early in the morning. Lee is busy getting dressed to go outside and then back in because it is cold, then ten minutes and out again. I need something I can do mindlessly and drop at a minute’s notice. I will need to bring more fabric scraps upstairs. It seems I am getting so removed from my studio….

I finally finished working over the second short story…The Ferryman. I need to keep reminding myself that it is just a story told over a beer to someone hardly listening so why worry!

Charlie, the ferryman, told me to just let him go….others might be waiting their turn, he said. I hope he is right. I like dipping into their lives for a bit. It helps….his story is under short stories on my website.

Til later…

Today is a beautiful day. The men are back with several Arizona cypress and are putting them in the many holes dug along the top of the rise in the other side of the driveway. They are a nice size and will grow quickly. I will add more pictures as more plantings are put in. A massive load of mulch came two days ago and improved the site quite a bit. More pine straw also came today. The place will be looking very nice by the time they finish.

Lee is with the caregiver today. He seems a  bit more lost this week. We moved some folding camp chairs up to the garage for him to sit and watch the activities in the yard. Any changes are problematic for him so we will see how it goes.

I have gotten a bit sloppy with the drawings in the marks book. I think I am bored with it and just want to finish it up. It is also hard to not have interrupted, constantly interrupted, time to do more than I am doing. I will have to make a plan before starting the next book. I might add stitch to the next one.  It is true how calming it is to thread a needle and poke it in and out with a string trailing behind. Anyway…

We found some lettuce the other day and put it in some pots on the deck. Planting something also helps. When I can get nasturtiums to put with the parsley, sage and lettuce I will be satisfied that that is enough. The potted ivy from way back has gone nuts out there. Frost does not seem to bother it one bit.

I think my second short story is finished. It was hard getting time to get back to it.  A single porter beer should do it.  After rereading it a few more times I will put it under short stories on my website.

One thing I found most interesting was, when out of curiosity, I wondered if the childhood camp I was sent to about seventy years ago was still there. Yes, and with the mission of, “to improve and elevate the character of manhood.” So strange that it is still operating and has such a motto/mission that fit into my short story so well. I am not sure I liked going to summer camp. I only remember the leather lanyard making that seemed useful. But like most craft lessons with prepared materials, if you don’t have them why bother.

The cards and letters arriving this week are most appreciated. I am touched by how well the Tether Line book has been received and shared with others going through similar difficulties. Thank you.

Now maybe a glass of wine to watch out an open window the men planting trees.

Til later….

I had planned to be in the apartment today finishing off my short story. No. The caregiver was later than usual, then someone else showed up late. I get that she had a long ways to travel and that our regular one just cancelled this morning but I wish they would call. Monday no one showed up as promised so I called to hear them say they were sorry but working on a replacement. . .  again. None came.

So I could make my blood letting appointment. No food or drink all day. I go in early only to find they are at lunch.  With our regular caregiver who always shows up early to give me extra time, and me mistakenly counting on that, I had planned to do the grocery shopping before my appointment. No again. I had to do it afterwards.

And while I wait in the office for blood to be taken I have to fill out one of those electronic forms on how I am feeling. The kind you have to keep jabbing at the answer before it moves on to the next. I wanted to throw it across the room…but didn’t. Instead I answered questions that bordered on appearing suicidal. In other words I did not say “fine”. I did not say “okay”.

Then when the nurse taking blood does her nursely thing by saying, “How ya doin, hon?’ I was glad to have the mask on so tears got soaked up as quickly as I said, “Fine.” while looking away. Then I left, did the groceries without the list I carefully made out and left at home. I was glad no one I knew was in the store. One more “How ya doin?” and I would have just left without the few things I could remember.

The yard men and large pile of mulch are here when I get home but the nice trees promised to hide the neighbor could not be found after all. Holes are dug and waiting. We spend a half hour looking for a nozzle for the air compressor so they can pump up the tires on the the dump gator that has been tucked away in the garage. Lee used to drive it around and I have hidden the key so he was not tempted to drive through a wall.

When I got home he was napping and the caregiver was watching him. He seems a bit further down this week. So we make a good pair. He just wants to go home and I just want to go away.

Yesterday we worked on piling up rocks and both came back up very sore.

I work on my drawings but see changes reflected by my mood of late.

I just keep drawing over lines until it looks more like what I had in my head. The simplicity combined with a level of ignorance is quite satisfying.

And yesterday after going to get our takeout dinner and sitting with gin and tonics, I had time to open the package from Australia. It is Andie’s Covid walks. All folded and put into a leather pouch.

A lovely card with an image of one of her many boats often assembled in one of my workshops. All the animals and birds she gets to see on these walks! I love this gift. And it was wrapped in the poetry page from her newspaper.

Do we even have such things in American newspapers? I think not! We are the masters of dumbing down in this country. Just look who people vote into office. Look at our unwillingness to have gun controls and what it cost us on a daily basis. And today one of the dumber ones parked right in front of the cart return section. At that point I so wanted to just look up and scream to high heaven. Good thing I held back and got home without being hauled in for causing a scene in the Ingles parking lot.

Things will be better tomorrow. Another caregiver may or may not show up and I will or will not get over here with four hours of writing.

Til then….