Mom has taken on the appearance of an old tree. Old trees are quite beautiful in their own right. After weathering many storms. For Mother's Day I am going to patch the big hole in her old quilt. With scraps of self.
A winter storm watch they say. Maybe I will continue with this eye of the storm
cloth. A place to hide, anticipate and record with thread and needle.
This one has been through many a storm. A tran-seasonal storm cloth.
It is all one storm anyway. Life is just weathering it. I guess
life's storm has many eyes. And many eyes are always useful. Bring it on. This
one is made from such fragile old cloth. A big wind might just blow it
away. Be on the lookout for scraps falling from the sky. We can all
meet up somewhere and sew them back together. And then let it happen agin. Gotta love it.
Warmer today. Cold but Warmer. And I am enjoying (a robe called) Wind in the Winter light. On a Warm Wall. Watching it appear and disappear. While fixing some loose bricks in the fireplace.
And What a nice guy...I am thinking. This Man who thinks this dutch door is such a hard door to deal with and would rather not actually. It is old and warped and it sags now and again in the frame, letting all the cold wind in, but I Love it and so he is working to seal the gaps today, sanding, rehanging, Whatever it takes so I can have my Old Door and we might stay warm too.
The sun is out and that makes a big difference on a not so cold day. We should do some Walking. But Fixing is first. It will be colder later.
I was at Mom's yesterday. She needs someone there most of the time now. Although my brother helps a lot, my days are way too full. My back hurts. The house is a mess. I am scattered. Sometimes just putting a few scraps together makes me feel more together. I enjoy the sense that all those little separate bits are still one somehow. That pieces of a story that fell apart can be put back together in some useful way. The sun rose warm like a promise this morning. The view is more open through the storm thinned trees. It is almost like some trees fell down to give me a sense of space and a better view of the old sea. I suppose any change is a gift of new vision. It is a December walking day. Now where did I put my shoes?