Momma said there'd be days like these.

It's difficult to write, and there's so much I need to get out. I've been not writing for weeks as I think about writing, dream about writing, flex my fingers and wrists, sit down to the keyboard, and...nothing.

It will come, with quiet coaxing.

I will be patient.

Until then:

drinking coffee from my granddaddy's mug, on my granddaddy's kitchen table, remembering him and my grammy.

drawing stuff to stitch, maybe.

sewing on my mom's vintage 1930's singer.

quilt block #2 for an online bee

quilt block #1 for an online bee

Z raps, Mags is a blur, and Eliot observes from the bean bag.

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