I found my first two four-leafed clovers on Sunday morning while walking the dog. I am always on the lookout for them, but had never been lucky in the past. Minutes before, I had decided to stop looking. And then I looked down and there they were. I feel like this is symbolic, but of what, I am not sure.
I didn't mean to be away from this space for so long, but I haven't felt like I've had much to share. I've been head down, getting things done. First it was the end of the school year, swiftly followed by the girls leaving for camp. Since they have been gone, I've spent my time between some secret sewing and a nice visit from good friends. I've read a few books and cut out two more skirts. There are myriad quilts in various stages littering the sewing room, but I am not going to touch them or the skirts or anything else for that matter until the secret sewing is complete. I'm hopeful today will be the day.
It's been hot here. I moved the sewing machine downstairs to the family room and placed it so my chair would sit over the air conditioning vent. Brilliant, if you ask me. It's a little bit of a pain to have to walk up two flights of stairs to find whatever little tool or thing I am used to having at my fingertips, but, really, I could not stand to be up in that heat any longer. Bonus: extra steps. Fatty told me that I might as well set up camp in the family room for the entire summer and I think I probably will. There is a TV, streaming music, access to food and drink, plus I get to be around people instead of by myself. As much as I appreciate my sewing space, it is nice to be part of the action instead of all alone.
Lately, when I take Hazel outside before we go to bed, I have been greeted by the most amazing sight. The fireflies are numerous and active. The yard is black and quiet, punctuated by hundreds of sparkling lights. They skirt the ground and hover in the highest trees, flickering on and off, flitting here and there. I stand and stare for a few moments, soaking it all in, appreciating the wonder of what I see. The dog trots up the stairs, and we go in, locking the door behind us. I silently say a prayer of thanks for all that is good at the end of my day.