Found this photo in my desk drawer this morning and scanned it in. It's been years, five at least, since my grandmother picked up a needle. Maybe when I head up the mountain next week I will take my sewing bag. Last visit, Mamaw didn't know me. I sat and rambled about the weather, the heat. She asked me to count the hummingbirds at the feeder. But now I am visualizing her running those hands over newly made French knots and smiling. Yes, it's the perfect imagining for tonight when I am over-tired (maybe a wee bit cranky but trying to hide it) and misspelling every other word.
Sending you sweet dreams and wishes for a creative tomorrow.