Monday, September 30, 2013

Day 943

I was a bit sad today when the mail lady drove by. Whereas the last two mail days she came into the driveway to deliver boxes of donated fabric, today she briefly stopped at our mailbox to deliver the junk mail then drove on.

I might even had said something like "boo hoo" to myself but since my new motto is "I choose joy" I didn't dwell on it. I just thought about all the scraps I still had to work with.

And I was still feeling joy when I picked hubby up from school. I might even had said something like "yay" when I saw what he had in his hand. Fabric from a co-worker of his. I cut 11 more stockings from her pretty green fabric. Thanks to Mary who works in Marsing but used to work in Homedale.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Day 942

As I was cutting stockings today hubby asked me how many were already cut.

I have no clue.

Between the ones I already did, the strips I've been piecing together, the 76 from Marie's fabric (yep, Lisa you were right) and the 60 from Joan's material in today's picture I've lost count. While I've stacked them in groups of 25 those stockings have migrated from my table to boxes to baskets to the tops of boxes and baskets. I keep telling myself I'll get them all in one spot and then count them. But with fabric strips and scraps everywhere (including the floor - sorry hubby!) I haven't gotten around to it yet.

Tomorrow will be a new day.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Day 941

The knock on the door came at the right time.

As much as I work on sucking all the marrow out of life, as much as I choose to be happy despite my health, the downward spiral continues. I thought if I was cheerful enough, hid how I'm feeling enough, it would get easier. But it hasn't.

Every time I go to the rheumatologist's office I have to fill in a form that asks about the joints bothering me and the length of time that I have symptoms in the morning. 3+ hours is my standard answer but I'm on the verge of changing that to 4+ hours. The mornings are certainly the worst. The energy, the breath, the pain, the joint movements required to get out of bed and then get dressed is beyond what I can do most days.

In my futile attempt to forget my issues on weekends I head straight from bed to the sewing machine. I may not be able to breathe or get dressed or even brush my teeth for hours (and forget about putting on my shoes anymore - I've had to go to open back shoes that I can just slip on) but I can sit in a chair and feed fabric through a sewing machine.

That's where I was when the knock on the door came this morning. Hubby returned with a box and let me know I had a new best friend.

Joan from Michigan.

Guess what Joan sent our way? Looks like there is another Christmas angel out there. Thank you, Joan!

Friday, September 27, 2013

Day 940

Today is another question for everyone.

How many stockings did I cut today using the fabric Marie from Las Vegas sent my way?
A. 47
B. 58
C. 69
D. 76

Marie already knows the answer, but what do you think? Let's just say it made a nice dent as I work my (our) way to 400 Stockings for Soldiers.

Thursday, September 26, 2013

Day 939

Two mysteries. The first one is for you to solve.

Fill in the blanks.
When my daughter and I walked out of the ______ ______ she said, "A mom should never have more ______ than her 25 year old daughter."

More to reveal on that one later.

Second mystery. When I came home from Boise I had a box sitting in my sewing room. I knew I hadn't ordered anything so was curious about where it came from.

Las Vegas.

From Marie, a reader of this blog. A very, very generous reader who sent me a full box of Christmas fabric for the Stockings for Soldiers project. Did I say she was very generous? Well, she also included a sweet note. And money. Money to help buy more fabric or help with shipping. My heart couldn't be any fuller right now.

Marie, thank you for believing in this project - and in me. Hancock Fabrics has felt on sale and your funds will get a BUNCH of stockings cuffed. Fabric for stockings and felt for their cuffs. What more can a person ask for?