Cheerio, then, and Hello to the New

Stars and Stripes patch from Joanna Fiqueroa, Fig Tree & Co. Nantucket Mystery Block of the Month

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After saying an anniversary prayer for the passing of mum, and unfortunately adding two passings around the same date, I bid farewell to them that passed.  Still feeling sad, I have been able to put my hands to the test and make a production of things.  One being namely the Stars and Stripes patchwork above.  How lovely is that??  I am so thankful Joanna Figueroa is in this world right now, to cheer me up!! 

A gift for a friend

I laid my hand onto paints and canvas, after so many years, and made the above gift for a friend, from a photo she sent of her front door.  I think it has made a pleasing picture, no?

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And this is for you, my friend:  a pot of flowers to cheer you on this hottest day of days.

Remember this day in your coldest this winter. 

Think of those whom you love, and let it warm you.

The end.

XXOO

It's Her, All Over

I never wanted to be like my mother.  I never wanted to be her.  But somehow, subconsciously, I think I've become a lot like her.

I have some of her temperment, some of her ailments and problems.

I even look a LOT like her.

I never wanted to look like her.

She was always overweight, except when she got much older.

My mother was heavy set.  Now I'm heavyset.

My arms.  I used to be so afraid of having sagging skin under my upper arms.  Now I have it, but my arms look like hers did when she was very strong.  Arms, big and strong.

A belly.  Fat around the middle.

I am fat around the middle, but I am told I at least, "have a figure."

Meaning:  one can still determine the top from the waist to the bottom.

The truth is, I have always been more comfortable with the heavier set in my life.

I subconsciously sought out friends who are overweight.

My mother, my aunts, they were all pretty much overweight.  I am overweight.

But I don't mind it like I used to. 

There are prettier clothes out there for bigger women now than there used to be. 

I'm comfortable with myself.

I look at myself in the mirror and see my mom.

I also see my grandmother's fine wrinkles on my face and arms.

I see the varicose veins on my legs, like mom.

I see the very fine wrinkles on my neck and upper chest like all of the above, and

I think of them all:

Aunt E., Aunt G., Aunt M., Grandma, and mom.

They are all gone now, but I still see them in myself.