A Contemplative Life

The sunset at Samoa Beach from a few days ago.... Yesterday morning I sat down to write. Which meant first I read over the previous chapter, which took about fifteen or twenty minutes. Maybe fifteen. I had written perhaps two paragraphs, then my computer and monitor died. For seconds I inwardly shrieked. Going to my feet, I turned on the light, which worked. Which was even more frightening; what the heck was wrong? I called for my husband, who is a superhero; he noticed I had inadvertently with my shoe unplugged the power strip my computer and monition are both plugged into. DUDE! The computer turned on fine, my document saved, though not completely. A few sentences from that day's writing were all to remain before the document self-saved everything. For another few seconds I was.... Not terrified, merely slightly downcast. Yet I was also greatly appreciative that everything in the previous chapter I had altered was SAFE. No idea what I had changed, but those changes weren't af...

  Strange to complete a quilt, yet not share a single photo of it. Yet, as safety pins gathered in their container, I knew the end was near. All those pins pictured above were used in basting this quilt. A few nights ago I took a good look at how full the container was becoming. Yet, it seemed like a finish was days away. Isn't that how life works sometimes? We anticipate or expect this or that to happen far off in the future, like chickens laying eggs, lol. But occasionally we are caught off guard by immediate responses or occurrences, which throw our worlds into realms odd and surprising. That's what this quilt finish is, quite a surprise. Eggs from earlier today. Again we are gobsmacked at how prolific are our hens! A few of my novels have ended that way, in the crafting of a draft. I'm aware The End is nigh, then a chapter emerges and so does a story's All's Well That Ends Well, assuming the tale has a happily ever after. Most of my books do, I like happy ending...

Yesterday's block is now firmly adhered in place. Considered as I hand-applique Lucy Boston blocks early in the morning. (Or, lol, raising chickens.) I always wanted to write fiction. From my early teens that consideration never wavered. I proclaim that because this post is about enjoying things I hadn't previously pondered, hoped for, pined over. These things are very different. Like quilting, lol. And of course those chicks, who conveniently posed in a makeshift group yesterday afternoon for my husband. Owning chickens was NOT on my list of Wanna Do's, let me make that perfectly clear. Owl in the forefront, Camilla to the left behind her, the rest of the pullets poking about the grass. But the sewing, oh my goodness! I can't fathom my life without that treat, as dear to me as crafting novels. Initially I started sewing by machine, then came English paper piecing, and now Kawandi-inspired projects. Like treasure from heaven are these methods of fashioning various items...