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Wednesday, 10 June 2015

Regrets, I've had a few

Last week I decided that I had to acknowledge the fact that I could no longer bead or crochet with any success.  After I'd said it out loud, it turned out that I was OK with it.

Or so I thought.  Friday, I took all my wool and hooks to the Salvation Army and measured out my beads and wire and cord etc to share with Emma and a friend.  It didn't feel good, but I could stand it.

Monday, I went to the dentist and walking home in a June shower, ducked into my favourite Used-to-be-dollar store where I spent quite a few more moments than necessary looking at beads, wire, cord and wool.  Bought none, but it was a scorched success.  I had to stop at every Timmy's on the way home (that would be three) to console myself.

Then to come full circle, I saw this image on Pinterest or somewhere, and knew that I had done the right thing.


  1. I cannot follow the wanderings of your mind, but I do like you. :)

    1. I write that way deliberately but I like you too

  2. Did I ever show you my keychain with the real seahorse in it? Been around since I was a kiddyo.

  3. You bravely go . . .

    Your other fraction

  4. I understand what you wrote, Lorna. Really I do. I agree with Anonymous that you are very brave...and an inspiration too.

  5. Girl, I get it.
    Aging stinks. It beats the alternative though.
    I was painting my toenails yesterday. In order to see them, I had to pull them close to my face, pretty much. I either have to take up yoga or start paying people to paint my toes. Good lord.
    I also recently held up a little blanket that I'd crocheted this winter. Sadly, it looks like giving up the hook would be in my best interest too, as my project looked more like a trapezium than a square. (And I just had to look up trapezium because I could remember the word.) p.s. I'm in my 40s. Imagine me in 20.