Now, this is love:
Actually, so is this:
The fine eye that visits to help me...and folds my African fabric on a shelf where I can reach it.
The visiting quilting friend, helping me choose African fabric for my last four blocks.
My girl's Irish family found this in a closet for her to use when she visits there.
She and her man bought a house next to his Irish homestead.
Does anyone know anything about this machine???
Outlook
My road is a ribbon,
special for me.
It winds round the mountain,
down to the sea.
It crosses the field
and stops on a hill.
Forever it runs
yet ever is still.
My road is a ribbon,
once old, always new,
a curious pathway
to my point of view.
by Alice FC Burt
My mother, long dead, still comforts me with her poetry.
ReplyDeleteThat little quote choked me up. It says it all doesn't it. xx
I remember after my heart attack when I was so weak, a friend stopped over unannounced and helped me get the invitations for my daughter's baby shower done and out and helped me plan it. I could not have pulled it off but for her. My daughter did not get how hard it was for me. Now that friend is battling breast cancer and I am longarming a quilt for her she picked out my tops. The little poem packs a gigantic punch.
ReplyDeleteCaring and understanding friends are on of God's many blessings in our lives.
ReplyDelete