87, 88, 89, and 90

She knows what day of the week it is by what she has for breakfast, our Nancy. She’s a womanchild who likes her structure, that’s for sure. Nancy has always been quick to write her name on magazines (hers and anybody else’s) and when we take her shopping, she goes immediately to her room, puts all her new goodies up where they belong, then takes any new clothes back to the office where someone will sew her name tag inside each article of clothing before putting it in her closet. Though the drawing is new, Nancy has always liked to leave her mark on magazines, puzzle boxes, books, and such. Probably not surprising for one who owns so little and lives in a fishbowl. I stitched the entire drive to Savannah today. Thank goodness for flat, straight roads for a change. Since she wrote her name on three consecutive pages, I thought I’d put them together so you could see the differences and similarities. And though it’s not a signature, I included drawing #90 because I see a progression from #87 to #90. Do you?

The drawings:


5 87 6 erased


5 88 7 erased


5 89 6 erased


5 90 1 erased

The stitchings:



(Don’t ask me how, but #87 managed to escape my grasp and elude the dreaded group photo.)


Top to bottom are #88, #89, #90 shown here in the wall at The Cotton Exchange,
one of our two favorite places to eat in Savannah, GA.
(Our other favorite is The Olde Pink House.)


Left to right: #88, #89, and #90 shown here on the cobblestone street near the river in Savannah. According to my husband (who’s very smart about such things to do with bridges and ships and such), ships came to Savannah with little or no cargo, so stones were used as ballasts to give the ship more stability. Once in Savannah, the ships were loaded with cotton (or whatever), and the stones, no longer needed, were tossed ashore, eventually becoming the cobblestone streets that are quite fetching to gaze upon and quite treacherous to walk upon.


Just signed Nancy and me up to do another collaborative creative project: Sketchbook 2013.

And did you see us here? Thank you, Teresa, for your constant and enthusiastic support.


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.


  1. Mrswhich


  2. Mrsmediocrity

    well as the girl who had a close encounter with a hawk just recently and was certain it meant something, i am sure that owl was there for a reason.
    and you do know why it was there. and that is enough.

    • whollyjeanne

      i remember your encounter with the hawk. i guess we’ll add bird girls to our string of nicknames, eh thelma?

  3. Juliedaley

    She has been there all along, ready. waiting. She has always been there. I know you know. You know I know. That is all.

  4. Eliz Amaya-Fernandez

    My mother told me when I was a little girl, that only the really fortunate ones will have an owl look right at them. I believe her.

    • whollyjeanne


    • Petdavis

      I must be the lucky guy. A couple of decades or so ago we stopped at the Air Museum in Tuscon on our way through and there was an owl in a little bitty tree, right about eye level.

      I guess what your Mama said is true, I lucked through a serious stroke with little permanent damage and my wife is still putting up with me.

  5. Sally G.

    “We are all visionaries, and what we see is our soul in things.” ~Henri Amiel

    I get goosebumps every time I read or hear about experiences as you’ve just described. So magical, so spiritual – cracks my heart wide open.

    I’m so thrilled that ‘you know’. xx

  6. Kathyloh

    Well you KNOW how I stand on this one 🙂 – I’m not at home right now. In the middle of suburbia a hawk swooped and momentarily hung in the air as it redirected its dive directly in front of my window in this tract home. A coincidence? If we are not co-creating with all that is, what the heck are we doing? It’s not a question in my mind. Your owl came to you, waited for you and yes, you created the owl too. What will you make of it? BTW I love your way of saying so much with so few words. … and what of the silent beating of wings?

    • whollyjeanne

      kathy, thank you for validating this experience. i agree: if we are not co-creating, then what the heck are we doing? nicely said, my friend.

  7. Angela

    I’m late to the table, but want to add that She, like the owl, is unthreatened and pressing-obligation-free.

  8. Amy Oscar

    I will add only this: Owl medicine is afoot this week in the lives and dreams of many of my friends. Thank you for posting this.

  9. Kate Temple-West

    I’ve had some run-ins with other people’s “familiar voices” recently… They can be a truly destructive aspect of the dominant culture– snatching away the poetry of life, soul, Her. Thankful for your sharing. Gorgeous owl. What a gift– to experience and read!

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