It’s Not Working
When Megan was a small tike who wanted to do all things crafting when she visited, I would sometimes hear that soft little voice, “It’s not working.” Well, Megan, today it was my voice and there was nothing soft or little about it. I had been in the studio for several hours when Dennis came down to check in on me. Seeing nothing had progressed since yesterday, Dennis gave me his condolences. It was Dennis’ voice that was soft and with a bit of hesitancy. He wondered out loud, and I gave him credit for even saying anything as I was pretty worked up . . . what was different today. I gave him a sorrowful look. “I think I have had a stroke.” There it was, right out in the open as to why I wasn’t getting the cooperation I needed. Somehow, the grace I have been given time and time again wasn’t there today. Had I taken it for granted too many times?
It was best to shut the studio down for today. Dennis went upstairs and I followed after making sure to have shut everything down. It’s one thing to know that a hot iron will shut off automatically after x-number of hours, but it feels more assured to know it has been shut down and off completely.
The remainder of the day has me sitting in my cherry chair in my bedroom porch watching Cottonwood leaves dance along the street as the north wind catches them. The abundance of squirrels chasing around, tells me their harvest is in full swing.
Supper is savory left0vers.
With that I will take my leave. ♥