Tag: moon


6 155 1 erased


Not much to say today as I spent the entire day writing . . . and I finished my book (and NaNo)! That was a few hours ago – I’ve been tidying up some things (but not the book, that’s for January).



I started a new cloth last night. It is a cloth replica of a wake-up image I had last week. I’m not abandoning Nancy’s drawings, just starting something to take the place of writing till the first of the year. I like having more than one thing to work on. Gives me a break when I need it.


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.


Here’s what Nancy drew on the 131st sheet of paper:

5 131 1 erased

and the 131st stitching I did on cloth:


I tell you, the more I think,
the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic
than to love people.

~ Vincent van Gogh ~


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.



good gracious, my lovelies
i have so much to tell you.
i sent myself notes
as we came back
up the mountain today,
but now that we’re here
the unpacking
and mail sorting
and washing of clothes,
has me plumb tuckered out.
i’m tired.
tired to the bone.
fighting shingles
diverts a lot of
and what little
energy is left
has been spent
on emotion
the past few days.
so i think
if it’s all right with you,
i’ll save the telling
for another day
and just share some
moon snaps
from my own lens
with you
and bid you
a fruitful

Asheville7 13 11


2 28 10

how can i love you better? (day 22)


despite my loud and plentiful protestations,
she held my hand
and dragged me into
in the moon-lit ocean
at the bewitching hour
of 3 a.m.
standing knee-deep
in the frothy waters,
the red flag
warning us of riptides
that just might
pull us under
and tumble us into a
place we’ve never been before.

we talked in
mirrored likeness
of the waves
that broke on top of each other
and crossed at angles to each other
i was no longer her mother
she was no longer my daughter,
until we were, instead, simply
two women
who cherish,
and console
each other,
alone on the beach,
holding hands while
standing knee-deep in the ocean
basking in the moonlight
magic of this
wondrously beautiful moment.

(this is what my daughter and i did last night while my mother/her grandmother slept.)

different branches? trees? forests?



the sign on the elevator said the launch was scheduled for 6:30 this morning, but when we got to the tiki hut bar at 6:25, we saw that we’d arrived in time to see the shuttle traveling across the sky, but too late to see the actual launch. my daughter blamed the hotel, saying they should’ve posted the CORRECT time, dammit. (she’s not a morning person.)

my mother (bless her heart) was just thankful we caught her and redirected her to the tiki hut bar instead of letting her walk on to godknowswhere.

me, i spent the rest of the day thinking about authority. about our role and responsibility in being, recognizing, and following authority.

we’re here on holiday, as my friend karen would say. in hilton head, my mother, my daughter and me. enjoying a 3-g (3 generations) week of togetherness.

on the drive down yesterday, i just can’t tell you how thrilled we were to have been informed that the stoppers on aunt lucy’s salt and pepper shakers need to be replaced. fortunately mother brought the ancient, worn-out stoppers with her so we can spend the week looking for replacements. the launch and now this. and to think i wondered what on earth we would do with ourselves for 5 days on the beach.


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Allow me to introduce myself . . .

Hey, Sugar! I'm Jeanne Hewell-Chambers: writer ~ stitcher ~ storyteller ~ one-woman performer ~ creator & founder of The 70273 Project, and I'm mighty glad you're here. Make yourself at home, and if you have any questions, just holler.

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