Here I go again…

“You only need one friend,” a former best friend said to me when we were teenagers.

She said it as if it were a character defect.

I guess it didn’t matter to her that I had befriended her when she didn’t have any friends, and when no one else in our class liked her. Funny how we forget things like that.

I guess that was our breakup. She wanted to hang out with other people – namely, her former best friend who was now back in her good graces. I was content to only be friends with her. For the most part, I am still the way she accused me of being back then.

H is my best friend. I used to have many friends, women friends. Not many, but a few key players, people I could talk to. But over the last 5 years or so the ones remaining have slipped away. I never expected that to happen. The person locally I connected with the most, an avid quilter and just a wonderful woman, died in 2010. It’s only been the past year or so that I can think of her without painfully feeling her absence. H is my best friend, but he works a lot and for the past 3 years it feels like I’ve hardly seen him. I would like to make new friends, but most attempts have blown up in my face. The last one involved lawyers, if you can believe it.

I suppose I’m not alone in reaching out to people online, hoping to find kindred spirits. It is hard, though, when you become who you are as an adult and see things the way you do. And things that happen to you change you in ways which make it impossible to connect with others who have not changed, have not had similar experience. I have the most trouble with old friends rooted in particular beliefs, usually of the religious kind, but also other categories. And it seems like many adults value their beliefs more than people. That’s my experience any way. A few weeks ago I told myself, “I need new friends.” I am working on that. I’m also working on allowing others to have their own experience, their own expression. Although I find even though I’m willing to overlook strongly held opinions in others, that sentiment is not often reciprocated.

Today I’m feeling emotional again, and a bit lonely. I found myself laughing as some young man sped by the house, windows open and blaring music. I could hear his voice over the radio “(Like a drifter)…I was born to walk alone.” When I realized what I had heard, I felt sobered. But, it was still funny. And, just a reflection of my current thoughts.

One of my solitary fall activities is picking pecans. H thinks I’m crazy and doesn’t have the patience for it. I had made several trips to the local parks to gather pecans when he kept saying, as usual, “you have enough!” I got a 5 gallon bucket from the garage and began pouring my booty into it. “I’ll stop when I get to 5 gallons,” I told him. Then I stopped and looked at the bucket.


Nearly full!

Yesterday the wind was blowing like crazy, which is the perfect time (or just after) to pick pecans because the wind dries out the hulls and blows the pecans to the ground. I couldn’t resist and drove back to the park where this happened…


Probably another TWO gallons! Pretty amazing.

I’ve also been gathering walnuts and drying them in the driveway. I love how the pavement gets stained.


I want to be sure I have a good accumulation of hulls for dyeing fabric – and my hair. I’m going to dye it again, although it’s been several years since I’ve done it. The nuts I’ll use for cooking.

In about 3 weeks I’m going to Colorado where I’m going to take a week-long workshop. I won’t say what it is because it’s not fabric related, but I know it will be life changing. I am gearing up for it, without really knowing how to prepare. Maybe I will do some journaling about it, get some thoughts out on paper, help myself process and prepare for what’s to come.

In the meantime, I am enjoying fall. I would enjoy it even more if the dratted mosquitoes would go away. What a pain they have been.

The cats are a constant pleasure. Since I’ve been feeding him lots of mackerel these days Chicky has almost refused to leave the porch. He is happier and more contented than I’ve probably ever seen him. His skin crud is nearly gone with the addition of apple cider vinegar and cod liver oil to his food, and his coat looks great. The result is now I can pet him without getting the heeby jeebies. He still has some blemishes, but with his fur fully grown back in he is looking so gorgeous and fine.


Chicky and Matty have been greeting each other so sweetly of late. I was so happy to capture this shot.


In other news…I finished the little work I mentioned in my last blog, the one where I just decided to do what I know and throw in a few different things into the mix. Here it is:


Love…in smoke and cherry.

My plan is to work on finding myself in cloth, learning more, and selling my creations. I don’t have a shop open yet, but last night was toying with the idea of entertaining offers for my little works. I like the idea of that.









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