This morning I worked for awhile on this bit of cloth. I listened carefully to see what it wanted me to do, what it thought it was meant to be. I felt such a tug lately, to mend and make right and remember. Today as I stitched, I was taken back to a time as a child when I had this worn out old blanket-- holes, frayed edges, broken stitches, faded and falling apart-- but it was comfort. It was what I would tuck beneath my cheek when I went to sleep at night, or curl beneath with a book or one of the various stories in my head.
"That is what I am meant to be," it told me.
And so, under the watchful eye of Amel, (Jasper was busy guarding the orts) I continued to stitch, waiting to see if there was a particular story that I needed to stitch into the cloth.
We will see what whispers come to me as I continue to work.
Dye pot that is cooling now. Tea dye and flowers and greens cleaned out of the flower beds in the last handful of days. I am anxious to unwrap these later today.
Meanwhile, a little more backstitching to do on Tangled.
And another pot of coffee to consider.