As the day draws nearer to my Dad getting the keys to his new place, I find my mind returning to thoughts of he and my Mom. I won’t get a chance to say goodbye to their home. I live too far away, and well, if you regularly read my thoughts, you know that money is tight. Going home isn’t an option. Tonight as I prepare dinner it is just Dan and I. The kids are grown. Brian is still here, but as young men often do, he is out more than he is in. We are in the kitchen/family room together, Dan watching the television and reading, I am cooking, painting, and writing all at once. There is a comfortable silence wrapped around us, one that two people who know each other so well, and love each so much can be content in, like a well-loved blanket. From time to time one of us speaks. A comment from him, or me asking his opinion on the piece I am working on. Satisfied to just be with each other. It makes me think about my parents. I’m sure they had evenings like this in that house. I am also sure that since my Mother died my Dad has longed for those evenings. Life moves, and although all of us moving through it have emotion, there is no emotion in time. Even though Mom has been gone for six years, the finality of her house no longer there for me to return to makes me sad. In a way it is like losing her all over again. But again there is time. It is time for life to continue there, another family will move into that house, another family who knows nothing of us or who we were as a family will make new memories there. For them it will be a new place, for me it will be the last place my Mother lived. One thing I have learned, particularly in these last few years, is to value these moments, these quiet evenings, because they won’t always be here. Each of us will have those moments of great loss, remember to hold on while you can.

On a less melancholy note, I am just about finished with my clock/bookcase. I say “just about” because I need to cover the back of the door, but it is a detail that isn’t important for tonight, and I need to add one more piece of trim to a shelf. What I am thrilled about is how it has turned out. The vision in my head is complete. I have so often mentioned that I love to do things for children. This is one of those projects. I’ve written so many posts that I don’t recall if I have ever written this before, so please forgive me, but then again it was one of the greatest compliments of my life. My Mother told me that she wished I were her mother, because of all the things I loved to do for my children. I am me because of her. I want to do things for as many children as I can. I am so excited about this project because there isn’t a doubt in my mind that when children come to our shop and see the enchanting world inside the clock, they will love it. When I had finished the clock face I was happy with it. However, the inside of the cabinet was empty. What to do? I had in mind all along the “Hickory, Dickory, Dock rhyme in my head. Inspiration struck. Why not a secret mouse house in the clock? First floor, the garden. Second floor, the main house. What to do on the third floor? It came to me last night. A bookstore, just like the one I will be opening. The mice are made of Sculpy, and the rooms are full of things I found in the garden, or leftovers from other craft projects. There are a few things that I think every child needs: discipline,love, and imagination. I want to spark a little magic in their minds.

Finally, tonight a piece of work that isn’t mine. My friend, Gabby asked me for an art lesson. I’ve mentioned Gabby before, she is nine. I have been asked to teach before, but never felt comfortable passing on my “I’ve never had lessons, have a million bad habits, don’t really know what I’m doing, flying by the seat of my pants” art. For Gabby I’ll make an exception. We did a lesson in watercolor. Gabby’s Waterlily.Gabby did a beautiful painting.