Better Day

All is well in this ole arthritic body.  Keep moving is the secret to most ailments.  A good night’s rest doesn’t hurt either.

When I checked on the plush red fabric soaking in a small bowl of cold water in the studio . . . the water was pink.  Hmm.  I now have another sample, 100% cotton, of red soaking to see how this one fares.  High tech experiments going on.

Once I am in the studio, I always find something to do.  Today, the shelf that also holds the HP printer got a sifting, sorting and dusting.  I have two plastic old time puce green lunch trays that hold all sorts of goodies.  Some for the sewing machine and also for making stitching fun.

Today I was curious about my sewing machine.  On Facebook, the group I belong to has interesting tidbits about their machine.  Today, I checked and my machine has 23,000,000 stitches to date.  It runs like a top and by following the prompts that come up, many more millions yet to be stitched.

When I got up this morning and sat on the edge of my bed to allow the equilibrium to set in, the dry little flakes of snow floating caused a memory.  In the days of growing up with Raymond and Lena, we raised and butchered all likes of protein.  When it was time to take care of the ducks, mom was right there with an old pillow case to collect the breast feathers of the ducks.  One year we did have several geese and those breast feathers were indeed choice.

After butchering, the pillow case with the saved feathers would hang on the clothes line for a long time.  It was Elvera and my job to often take hold of the bottom of the pillow case and give it several good shakings, even tipping it upside down.  Mom had sewn the pillowcase shut.  Air needed to be incorporated into the treasure within as sometime in the future we would have down-filled feather bed pillows.  Each time we did our duty, very fine little feathers would somehow escape the thin worn threads of the pillowcase and float off.

This morning the dry snowflakes floating away reminded me of some of those days on the Boon Lake Township farm.  Priceless.

Each day can be different from the day before.  Today was a good day.

With that I will take my leave.