Weary Bones
I am not ashamed to admit it . . . today I have weary bones. The acre was walked with five gallon pails and my picker. The storm of Saturday night sure cleaned house among the tree’s branches. I cleared one area at a time to allow Dennis to mow grass rather than branches. It was a team effort and now the team is weary. As our little fire ring burns itself down to the bottom, Dennis will add one pail of branches at a time and soon the pails will end up back in the potting shed.
There was a great breeze and taking breaks on the patio could almost lull me into a nap. Oh for that hammock back on the farm between the two cottonwood trees. It was just the best place for my toddlers to be placed into after they had fallen asleep while on my lap as I mowed the yard. Just the best memories ever! In today’s world it would have been deemed unsafe due to the noise or the fact that there was no safety belt.
I took my weary bones down into the studio. A change of pace does the trick when the thought of closing down for the day is niggling at the back of the brain. I am picking away at my log cabin blocks. All is going well. By following the printed instructions, I do believe that there will not be any trimming needed. Taking it slow and using lots of pins for total stabilization, this Grammie is learning a thing or two. The pattern did have the byline of “Quilt in a Day.” I won’t even try and keep track of how many days this will entail for me.
I know later on, a shower will be the frosting on the cake for the day. I already have the supplies laid out to dress Dennis’ foot after he has his shower.
I might be weary, but . . . a good bit of local effort was accomplished.