My days have been filled with the Olympics (sadly over) and quilting and crocheting and knitting when my back allows, alongside children who have filled their days with reading and writing and drawing and spending hours outdoors.
I'm not feeling entirely well yet. My blog makes that obvious, as I love to photograph and I love to blog, so if I'm not doing either then I must not be entirely okay! I haven't used my camera lately – the crouching and lifting bother me, but the strap around my neck especially does. And I haven't been able to type or surf online much. There is something about having my hands forward to type that my back/neck injury does not like. So, alas, I'm forced to live beyond the Internet!
Still, I am feeling better and for that, I'm so grateful. I was able to go shopping with my man last week at an antique store where we found a beautiful quilting hoop – a standing frame. The catch is that now I need to learn to quilt by hand. I'm looking forward to learning something new.
I'm also feeling better to be quilting and crocheting and knitting again. Hurray!
I have at least a dozen blog posts in my head (one with a photograph of that quilt frame!) that will one day be posted, when I can tolerate typing for longer. Tonight, though, instead of typing in this journal entry as I planned, I'll just let you try to read the hastily-written scrawl that I wrote while at the bay over a year ago. I found this the other day in an old sketchbook and love the quote from Miss Austen.
I have an entire book in my head on discontentment and contentment, thanks to a BIG life lesson in it years ago. One day, I'll post on it.
Finding this entry reminded me to be content even about this injury. So I can't blog or photograph much now. But I can sit in the sunshine by the children and listen to them read, and I can teach our teen to make spaghetti without taking over and doing it myself, and I can allow our preteen to get her little sister ready in the morning. These are good life lessons for the children.
It's hard for me to not do. I want to always be doing. But I know that I have a choice: The children will either remember this as a tough time ("Oh, man! Mama was soooo grumpy then!") or they'll remember it as the time they were able to help me and I appreciated them for it.