I haven't been writing. Maybe nobody noticed. Since Allen's stroke, which was mild, our life has changed dramatically. After the flurry of moving into a new apartment, unpacking, and finding doctors, food, and library, we're finally at home. At home enough to think about traveling south to visit friends. The docs say it will be ok. On the seven-and-a-half drive, we'll need to take a stretch break every hour. Except I worry if he'll really be all right. And that's the reality behind this blog. Not every day is a good day. Allen says it's ok to say that.
Earlier this week, we passed our tiny wetland, really just a marshy pond, fenced all around. Sometimes we've seen mallards poking through the reeds. This sunny afternoon, we heard a frog croaking, a sign of coming spring. The next morning, the hills were dusted with light snow. Nothing like the east coast, but still snow. And now the little pond is silent. I remind myself it's February. March and April will come.
I checked in at Subversive Stitchers to find the work of Rose Hughes profiled along with the most amazing healing quilts. What a rich mix of pure creativity and quilting resources from this online community. Not to mention courage and hope. And so I've pulled my quilting out and will try to piece together a healing quilt for those I love.