Apologies for the radio silence. As usual, life complicates things.
I was very busy applying for a full-time position with Fine Cell Work, but suffered a considerable disappointment when my application was terminated due to an ‘association’ I have. Someone close to me is currently ‘doing time’: the irony that he only has a matter of months left, despite enabling me a considerable amount of empathy with his situation, was apparently enough to take me out of the running for the position.
Nevermind. In the spirit of Fine Cell Work’s ‘fostering hope and self-esteem’, I have been continuing with my patchwork quilt of my own. It was begun when my friend went away (and I was substituting sleepness nights with Valium) and has been a great source of simple creative comfort ever since. As I write, it’s virtually ready to be backed and quilted, with the hexagonally pieced top complete…
(Yes. I am making something personal for myself in a colour OTHER than black. This is a novelty in my typically gothic existence.)
I leave you with one stitch-related anecdote: A few weeks ago, I had an accident in which I slipped and cut my forearm on a giant slice of grass lurking in an overgrown garden. Confrotned with an alarmingly enlarging pool of blood and a potential several-hour wait in Accident and Emergency, I took matters (quite literally) into my own hands and decided to use my stitching skills. Fetching our giant first-aid kit, I successfully sterilised and sutured the cut myself. Later on, it’s healed up nicely. I shall spare you the photographic evidence…..