The midnight hour

It is safe at the midnight hour to be rageful...and that I am.  Today I called the asthma specialist at 12 because I was so done with being sick...left a message with some attendant for the nurse to call me back.  At 4:30 with no response, I called again...well there was no record of the first call and the staff all took half a day on Thursday, etc but I could talk to the triage nurse....15 min later the triage nurse informed me that the doctor and his staff were on vacation till Tuesday with NO back up physician...and patients should either go to the ER or their family doctor.  I was rageful then and it was not even midnight.  I made an appt with my PCP for tomorrow afternoon and burst into tears.  It was then that the house phone rang and it was my mother.  She had remembered how to dial my number.  But timing...I was in a fit and blurted it all out like I was five years old.  And, she acted like she was my 91 year old mother...soothing and sorry.  A gift at the right moment.  We had a delightful talk.

Tonight I finished the quilt for the hospital boy.  On the evening news last night there was a race car driver on the children's cancer ward with some of the adolescent boys.  I noticed that they had cool pillowcases and a quilt on the bed, not nicely folded but crumpled with love.  I was so delighted that I was working on this to ease someone's journey.

 The quilting on this is easy, just channel stitching with a little wiggle stitch in the middle..at best 70 min...

 At this hour, I decided to go outside and chill...I remembered the wine I had bought in October for my mother's funeral.  She missed the train, but I still had the wine.  I took some outside and tried to chill.  We have pine trees in our yard, at least 20 of them that are from 70 to 80 feet tall and beyond our fence into the woods there are more.  It was dwarfing..and then I saw the big dipper..how many years have folks been watching the big dipper...??  And then there was Great Aunt Carl's gardenia bush..20 feet wide and 10 feet tall that I had grown from a single cutting from her window sill in Greenville, Alabama...Perspective is coming..the miracle of life and my insignificance.  After two glasses of funeral wine..I decided to pretend I was a burglar looking in from the deck to my quilting room....can you just imagine what that person would think????