I just let him sit there for a while.
I am not in a hurry.
The stem line, just marked with pen, where and as the thread fell. Started stitching but didn't finish. And yes, that's Deb's thread. Waiting.
Change is at the Heart of Season. I want to name this that. Heart of Season. I thought how oddly we attach ourselves to the expected outcome and that it is probably just a slow repeating shift toward the unrecognizable. If we only lived long enough.
PS. I will remove the PlaceKeeper from the top blog menu, it is way outdated. Let me rethink that.
