Posts

So grateful to be a writer

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Nineteen years ago here I was, writing my first book while we lived in Great Britain. Lately life has been so full of distractions that I forget part of who I am, an author. Reading aloud for Home and Far Away this morning, I was pleasantly reminded of a marvelous section of my existence and how important that treasure is to share. Here's a scene from Chapter 10. If you're interested in more of Sooz's backstory, check out Far Away from Home: The Enran Chronicles Book Three . Sooz only remained in her room long enough for Richard to fall asleep. Then she quietly went downstairs, collecting her novel and the dictionary from the living room, taking the books into the front room. She preferred reading in there because she could turn on the light without fearing she would alert Richard or Gilly to her nocturnal presence. That Chella slept as well as she did was a relief to Sooz, even if Chella required the light, although Sooz had turned it off when she initially went upst...
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Slowly slipping back into my life

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Drinking black tea, working on books, making something with fabric etc, etc, etc... Welp, I read aloud three chapters today! Home and Far Away is back underway, lol, and wow it's a relief returning to that realm, not of the novel's setting, merely of my butt in the chair, working on revisions. I'm still adjusting to what I can't eat, like milk in tea and ice cream and cheese, but at least pouring through a manuscript is familiar. And right now, familiar is WONDERFUL. Sorbet is pretty nice too, a decent alternative to my fave Phish Food Ice Cream, sniff. When I enjoyed a bowl of sorbet outside yesterday, seating myself near the chickens, the chickens thought I was there to give them a treat, hahaha! Camilla paced back and forth as though searching for a break in the fence. The rest came and went, then finally all wandered off, realizing I wasn't there to give them anything but vocal attention and to treat myself with something sweet in the odd but marvelous warm Oct...
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Trusting one's heart

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Written earlier today before the granddaughters woke.   I foresee plenteous machine stitching in the near future. I tried some hand-sewing this week and boy my shoulder was cranky. I am in the treatment pipeline for said right shoulder, but medical stuff is slow as snot these days, yet I am hopeful to be back in my usual routine of nightly hand-stitching as soon as is feasibly possible. (I might sneak in some surreptitious hand-stitching merely to have completed the necessary blocks to snap a photo of Alexandria quilt progress. Not that I am planning to tackle it as soon as I can sew with ease, but one of these days I'll get back to that beauty!) January 2025; the long sides aren't sewn together, but the center is! It's hard wanting to work on something that in the end causes pain. The grandgirls have been using my machines, which stirs within me the desire to don earplugs and headphones and create in a manner that defies belief, when one's belief is that sitting on the...
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A different kind of autumn

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Cherish quilt top finished six years ago this month. A gift for my youngest and her husband, but where have those six years GONE???? Very little tea. Or hand sewing. And no dairy, red meat, and Advil. But LOTS of grace contemplation. And chickens. And twilight of my life musings.... October has brought a lot to my mind, as well as the last couple of weeks leading up to said start of autumn. We received over an inch of blessed rain and perhaps the end to the fire season, WHEW. Daylight is truly becoming less of feature, but then it is OCTOBER! Where has this year gone? Not to be overly maudlin, but I can't help notice how I'm not as young as I used to be, lol. Recent health scares not pushed aside, although I don't want to dwell on them, dietary restrictions can't be ignored, and suddenly I find myself peering over the fence at who I used to be, maybe a year ago. Part of it is certainly the traumatic upheaval in my government; I never thought such peril could happen in A...
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The changing realm of Camilla Chicken, or what happens as the world turns

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Camilla Chicken from a couple days ago. Photo courtesy of my daughter. It's lovely to have family present; my eldest and the grandgirls are here for the week. My oldest granddaughter likes checking on the chickens, while youngest grandgirl treks about with Grandpa on trails. Meanwhile I've learned about KPOP Demon Hunters , how AI can produce gluten-free, dairy-free, iron-fortified, red-meat free meal plans in the blink of an eye, not batting an eye in also excising seafood, tofu, and coconut milk from said menus. Definitely twenty-first century living even tucked away on the North Coast. Rain has fallen, then was immediately sucked into the parched ground, more rain arriving today. Temperatures have been pleasant, sun shining even. The chickens weren't sure what to make of all the precipitation, and by last night my husband was wondering if Camilla, our largest and usually most confident pullet/nearly hen was experiencing a bit of an identity crisis. When he went to check ...
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Turning into Future Me

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An uncomplicated pretty quilt top. Thanks Past Me for putting in the time cutting fabric, etc. Sewing and walking slowly, Metamucil, and being happy about it all, lol. Yes, this is how I felt today. Well, I was a little shouty on Bluesky, but that was the kind of thing that happens every once in a while because, well, I'm approaching the age where at times I don't give a fig. Where a notion pops into my head and it's like, "Oh yeah! And why haven't I thought of that previously?" Am I going to be a snarky old gal, hmmmm. Future Me is a wee bit...impatient at times, maybe not quite snarky, but certainly.... I just looked up the definition of snarky (critical, irritable, bad-tempered) and I'm not happy with any of those. Or maybe smirky is a better way to describe Future Me. Or some halfway point between the two. Not that I can see Future Me smirking, she's actually not around. But as though I am stepping into her shoes, I feel that smirk creeping over m...
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Being okay with things beyond my control

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From a couple days ago, snapped by my husband, seated inside the run with the chickens. I'm gazing at Nadia Chicken, off screen, while most of the rest gather near the fenced off pomegranate bush. I think chicken #8 was sunning herself along the back of the workshop that butts up to the run. Mis-sewing rows, diverticulitis, in general getting older, falling in love with sewing squares again, accepting life isn't in my control, the Serenity Prayer, ironing seams the wrong way, etc, etc, etc.... God, grant me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen. Whew! What a few days it's been, and in that I do include my lost weekend of sorts, spent suffering from an acute attack of diverticulitis. The recovery has been about as much of a 180 that the misery was, which at the end, or rather beginning of this day, is absolutely WONDERFUL. Needless to say, but I'll type it regardless, I am happy...
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