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.
I cannot follow the wanderings of your mind, but I do like you. :)
ReplyDeleteI write that way deliberately but I like you too
DeleteDid I ever show you my keychain with the real seahorse in it? Been around since I was a kiddyo.
ReplyDeleteYou bravely go . . .
ReplyDeleteYour other fraction
I understand what you wrote, Lorna. Really I do. I agree with Anonymous that you are very brave...and an inspiration too.
ReplyDeleteGirl, I get it.
ReplyDeleteAging 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.