Today is the first drawing in the second journal Nancy drew in on Saturday. With a total of 167 drawings, I’m counting today as the halfway mark.
As often happens, I see one thing when I look at the drawing (usually awe), something else as I stitch (usually a feeling), then I spy a third thing (usually something that tickles me) when I snap the photo of the stitched version. As I stitched this drawing, I was struck at how it resembles my life right now. I tell you what: my house is in such a state of disarray (and that may or may not be a metaphor). Then as I looked through the lens of the camera, I saw a face. Complete with wrinkles cause having spent today at the cardiologists’ office, taking our daughter to lunch, fetching the dog some antibiotics, then trekking back up the mountain, I am too tired to starch – even lightly starch – and iron.
(Hubs is fine, by the way. Goes back in a year. Though we’d rather have two years or even a year and a half, we’ll take a year. So glad we’re not yet old enough to take pride in our health being of serious enough consequence to require doctor’s appointments closer together on the calendar. Waiting rooms have not yet become the stage for our social lives.)
She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.
Pull up a chair why don't you, and let's talk . . .