Three birthdays, my daughter turned 33, my son - 21, my gosh, seems like I was just going to his t-ball games, and I turned 57 in September. What! How? I don't even know what to think about that.
I finally grew my hair out to a style I'm actually happy with, particularly the gray streaks. No more layers, all one length, bob. I would have never guessed I would go there, but it works. It only took me 57 years to figure it out.
My middle daughter had a very large fibroid removed in a 4 hour surgery that scared the hell outta me. She was off work for a month after that and needed help with, well, everything. Three months before the surgery they gave her a shot of Lupron (to help shrink the tumor before they operate) which temporarily shuts down all production of estrogen. She was thrown into menopause within a few days. Meanwhile I have been cutting down on my estrogen dosage to eventually get off it altogether, and so the mother/daughter hot flash, cranky pants team was born. What a scene. It's times like this that I'm really grateful I don't have to work.
I have been reading and reading and reading. I can't seem to get enough lately. First, Mrs. Poe, then this series, which is Young Adult, but really good, followed by All the Light We Cannot See (sooo well written) and now The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.
My Mom went in for a relatively low risk outpatient procedure that turned into a nightmare. The last few weeks we have been running back and forth to the ER, and three surgeries later she is now in ICU. She's 78, and pretty tough, but it has taken a toll on her. We just want her home. Hell, I'd settle for a coherent conversation with her at this point, where she's not heavily medicated and doesn't think it's 1958. It's weird, I keep thinking "I need to call Mom and talk to her about everything that's going on" but, then I catch myself. Sigh.
So you can see why I've been away for a while. I'm still here lurking around the edges of blog land, reading your blogs, tying to remain inspired, but just not motivated to work on my sewing.
Before all the above happened, I managed to add some borders to my Tulip quilt, which is basted and ready for hand quilting. Not much else, although I picked up a ball of Paton's wool yesterday and started to crochet row after row after row in moss stitch. Simple, meditative, and repetitive. Healing.
Maybe it will become a blanket for my Mom to snuggle with when she gets out of the hospital.
Thanks for listening.
|Me and Mom, heading to a concert in 2012|