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Tuesday is Monday

River of Stones: Day 18

To wake having slept well, to wake to a well scheduled day, to have an open window in the bedroom in mid-January as I listen to the NPR news about the expected (new) storms in the northeast….it makes me smile…not in a gloating way….but in a truly thankful way. If I liked snow and cold-cold winters, I’d live in those places. I like living in a bare legged, sandals in January state. It means I get to turn off my air conditioner. I can hear the birds waking up. They like Florida, too.

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I had a three day weekend and these are some of the crafty and creative things I did.

I finished something that had languished.I made these pillowcases from scraps, fat quarters that I ought for projects never attempted and stored away. I used surplus white fabric I have had stored for YEARS from previous quilt backing….I still have more.

I learned something new: locker hooking. A hybrid crochet hook and needle is part latch hooking, part knitting, part crocheting. This is my future coffee mat. I am using up a stack of batik fat EIGHTHS I bought at the Jacksonville armory quilt show more than 10 years ago. Unfortunately, the fabric doesn’t go as far as I would have thought.  Iwill have to BUY fabric to finish this one. Oh, darn!

I adjusted a recipe to my liking. At Christmas, made the original from the Like the Bowl Good website, an Almond Cranberry coffee cake. I didn’t get to eat any of it as I gifted it to my attorney. But…I kept thinking about how the cranberries should be CHOPPED and nuts should be IN the cake and not just on it. So, I bumped up the nuts to a full CUP in the batter and the a 1/2 c on the top. I baked it at 325F for 70 minutes. It is heavenly. When my mother says some thing is “a little too rich”…..that is the daughter of the Great Depression saying it is too extravagant and decadent to be right.

I returned to a task I have avoided for the last month. I edited two chapters f my novel. Coming at my writing obliquely, through other creative processes may be helpful. Writing is not a chore, a task or a JOB. Not for me. Writing is an urge.

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