Monday, April 27, 2015


Last Tuesday was a beautiful day for a drive.  I made it to Opryland in 5 hours, which is great time.  

My room was nice, and interestingly laid-out:
The view as I walked in;  bathroom on my immediate left.
Around a corner for a full view of the bed (which is a pull-out sofa, but quite comfy.)
The full wall in front of the bed (which you can see in the picture above.)

Then, around that far corner, on one's right if sitting on the bed or in the chair, was The Table.  See previous post for that.  It will bug me for All Time.

And my room is all I got pictures of, because from Wednesday on, it felt like I was completely out of my body.  Everything's pretty much a blur.  As I said last time, Wednesday started with the news that my Uncle Tommy had died.  By that night, I knew that visitation was Friday and the funeral Sunday.   A solid hour-and-45-minute drive from where I was.

You don't pack a funeral-appropriate dress and shoes for a trip to Stitches, so I that had to be taken care of.  And Stitches started, and I walked and I walked and I walked, and I bought some stuff.  And I couldn't find Miss Babs' booth, though it was on the Vendors Map.  Two friends had asked me to buy Miss Babs for them.  It just wasn't there.

The class I was supposed to take Saturday morning --- learning how to knit in Continental --- was going to make it impossible to get to the funeral.  It was almost as if I only made the trip to drive around.  Nothing but being in the car is clear to me.

Making everything worse was that my emergency prescriptions had not been filled on time, so I had to ration my medications for the week.  It was terrifying.  It was like I wasn't in my body, in my skin.  A panic attack was constantly imminent.  By yesterday, the physical symptoms had become so bad, I was kind of frightened to make the drive back.  I had to keep telling myself, "Pills are at home, pills are at home. . .'

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Mixed Bag

I had a gorgeous day for a drive yesterday, and made very good time.  My room is small, and awkwardly-shaped, but very nice.  One thing about it is driving me crazy, though:
How do you not center a round table under a round  light fixture?  There's plenty of room --- it's sort of making me twitch.  And, yes, I tried to move the table.  It's cast iron and weighs a ton;  I couldn't budge it even a teeny bit.

The main reason I came up early (Stitches starts tomorrow) was because today is my Daddy's birthday, and I wanted to go to the cemetery.  It was tough --- I haven't been here in 3+ years.  I'm skirting around the parts of town that would open the floodgates.  My twinnie sent me a message a while back saying, ". . .you are strong and you can do this."  I don't know how many times I've repeated that to myself even before I got here.  And I sure said it a lot today.  Thanks, Twinster --- you helped get me through it.

Before I left this morning (giving myself a day out to go places, see friends), I got word that my Uncle Tommy died yesterday.  He was my mother's baby brother.  All the arrangements aren't quite clear yet, but I know several plans for my stay are going to be changed.

I had to go for comfort food tonight:
Dry-rub ribs and collard greens.  

Friday, April 17, 2015

Working Toward Something

Well, these two aren't really working toward anything, but I'm trying to.

My third Mother Bear bear.  I tried their skirt pattern on this one;  it's rather fetching.  I've still got to block the hem down, but I'm happy with her.

I was looking through the Stitches South book a few days ago, and came across an ad for this organization.  They're going to have a booth there, accepting elephants.  I made one up the other day, and am working on another right now.  They work up in a jiffy, and are dadgum cute.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Somber Day


Tuesday, April 14, 2015


150 years ago tonight, President Lincoln went to Ford's Theatre.  These are the things he had in his pockets:

This is the hat he wore:

And the gloves:

What is there to say?

Sunday, April 12, 2015

She Blooms

My vision is sort of a weeping willow vibe:

Do those look anything at all like stitches?