Stitching and Baking...a story

 Oh wow, hi there. Gosh, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything fancier than Facebook posts and journal entries. My Facebook posts started getting super long and I thought yeah, I think I’m about ready to write again. 

These last few years have been dark and weird, sunny and hopeful, desperate and sticky by turns. Like life. Take this year. Really, take it. Ha, threw that in just to see if you’re there! OK. Moved back to Texas (swore I’d never do that), started a new job in January, lost my beloved brother John. Stop there...that was the darkest, the worst. Still unbelievable. Then there was a pandemic. Then I turned 60. Oh this is not my beautiful life.

Then the crazy old sun started coming out like it does, shining on me, and John was in my ear and on my shoulder whispering that it’s time. Time to stand on your own and do brave scary stuff. Again. 

After almost a year of sheltering in the hearts and home of my niece Stephanie and her husband Vince, I moved out into my own place this month. It was hard, because it was safe there, full of love and laughter and puppies. Also an arrogant cat. I made margaritas and cheese quesadillas. I worked from home. I baked bread on occasion, or a buttermilk pie. I stitched like a fool. I wrote a lot, read a lot of books. Stephanie and I watched endless reruns of New Girl, with Vince occasionally breaking in to insist we watch something else, like the entire set of Marvel Movies (which were awesome, btw). I healed from the trauma of uprooting and leaving behind people I loved, from losing John. I was broke and broken with a splintered heart, terrified of starting over. But I have this crazy family, see, and they will let me fall down but then they stick a hand out and say...c’mon.  Get up.

This is me, getting up, dusting off my ass and moving forward. Still working from home, grateful for a job and health insurance and air conditioning. So thankful for air conditioning. Worried about the election (because I am a blue girl), about when the pandemic will finally run its course, about what kind of world is going to be left. I worry about a lot of stuff I can’t control. I’m heartbroken that this is apparently the best that I and previous generations could do for my grandchildren. They deserve so much better.

I think about the crap I can’t control.  And then I think (or more likely, this is when John chooses to whisper in my ear)...yeah, that’s true, there is a lot going on that you can’t control, Bon. But guess what?  You can make beautiful things with fabric and thread and needle. You can make a badass loaf of bread, girl. You can write a story. Are these tiny things? Maybe, maybe not. So that’s what I’ve decided to do here, because I can. These are things I’m good at: stitching, baking and storying. Just humor me for a moment, and let it be a verb! These are things that make me happy, and I want to share them with you because I want them to make you happy too. So I don’t know, maybe some days this blog will be about one thing I stitched or baked, and some days maybe just a story and sometimes all three. But don’t get your hopes up about the all three because that is a lot. And I’m kinda lazy. But we’ll see. This puppy is bare bones right now, no bells, whistles, banners, gadgets or widgets. Maybe I’ll add some, maybe I won’t. We’ll see.

One more thing. I want to know what happening on your stretch of the path too.  What’s making you happy or at least semi-glued together in these strange and dark-green times?

❤️Bonnie