Some days

Some days are just, well, maybe you would just rather have skipped them.

But you can’t.

This wasn’t fun. But at least I was only going 20 mph and I was a mile from home. This was my father’s car. I took it over when he had his stroke and used it to shuffle my mom back and forth to the market and the nursing home. Mom never did drive. It’s a 2005 Kia. It’s about had it, I guess. But this was a brand new tire. I don’t like driving much but now there is a lot of it.

Shit happens.

Of course this was only part of the day. But let’s just say I’m ok. Actually now that I live alone I’m learning more about how to make that happen. How to process how things might go. Solve the problems. And just be ok.

There wasn’t time but I sat with my safety net once again. The 9 patch.

I did a little more stitching on the darker sanity patch. And I notice have shifted from loose stitched raggedy patches to loose stitched puzzle pieces. That is, prepared and destined for a more traditional piecing. Maybe because the puzzle is more apparent lately, and little too liquid. A loose plan helps.

I can never have enough new eyes. This one actually combines the eye as a symbol with my symbol for newness. I like how the visual language might evolve through connection.