Thursday, October 13, 2016


We have a lot of yarn now. It came from my dad's house.
It was Bonnie's. She died about a month and a half ago now.

She was so many things, and did so many things. She had a life well-lived.
And, she was fearless. We were in France, and she admired the coffee cups we were using in a restaurant. She said, I think I'll see if he would give some to me, and I laughed.

Guess who got the coffee cups.

We all went to Ireland several years back. We ended up sitting next to a family in a bar in Limerick. The father and daughter were at the head of the table, drinking and telling stories. They were there post-funeral, they told us, and they were singing songs and crying and sharing memories. They brought us in and we laughed and cried with them. I kept thinking about that night when we were having dinner after Bonnie's service.

She framed a picture of a cat I did freehand so long ago. She put it up right next to all the other art in the house, done by real live professionals. 

It felt weird to write another blog post without saying something about this. So, instead, I'm crocheting my fingers off. And reading library books. And taking a course. And drinking wine. And so on. More later.

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