"Cakes are done, people are finished." That's my mother's voice going through my head, quoting some doctor that she used to work with, each and every time I think about thinking, saying or writing about something that's been... completed.
"The sweater is done."
"I am finished with the sweater."
The most Wonderful Wallaby, minus the pouch and with a hood this time. The gray and black are Mission Falls Cotton. The colors for the truck area are a Cascade cotton that I'll have to look up. The birthday sweater, just shy of a month overdue. Not bad.
The sweater was inaugurated and tested during 4th of July during fireworks!
* * * * *
Sheesh. I didn't mean to be so dramatic yesterday. I'd been thinking all day about what to post. A couple of things have put me in a melancholy mood lately, and then some other things -- the whole general state of things... the world, our country, the economy -- started to drag me down a bit, and then pretty soon it was like every time I opened my mouth or had a thought it just kept getting darker and darker. One thing that started it was Maddy asking me for money for gas the other night. I knew I didn't have much cash in my wallet, and I was right. I had a $5.00 bill. It's just depressing. There have been plenty of good things happening -- stratospherically awesome goodness (when I allow myself to feel it and believe it and just let it be and NOT let it be overshadowed) -- but the evil thoughts were winning the battle yesterday. I couldn't stop myself.
I felt compelled to post, for some reason, and decided to just do it right then before it got any worse -- I don't know what made me think of Steve Winwood and Higher Love... it's just that there must be -- we must aspire to -- a higher love in everything we do, all that we touch, you know... rise above, light the night, be strong?