I’m using and expanding day 16.
Accumulating stuff is overrated. Before you know it you can contract the disease of hoarding. If one gives their mind over to acquiring stuff exclusively, it can become a mental illness. I discovered when a loved one dies, going through their belongings is sad and tedious. Don’t forget the family squabbles that can erupt; sometimes leading to fractured family units that never repair themselves. It came to me how much happier I’d be if I could give things away instead of listing everything in a will. I wanted to see my loved ones enjoy my treasures. It’s a good thing I did, because I’m not a soothsayer; soon I would be forced to divest myself of nearly all my worldly goods.
I discovered my granny’s crocheted tablecloth that she made for my mother as I was going through boxes that had been in storage. Mary Elizabeth Markham Dixon is the one who inspired me to learn to crochet, a skill I still practice. I have her crochet hooks, though I don’t use them. They are for fine, delicate work like the tablecloth.
Granny could make her needles fly, turning out antimacassars, doilies for the backs of chairs, and other decorative pieces. She even crocheted a dress for me with a blue satin ribbon around the waist.
My mother used the tablecloth every day on her cherry table. It was part of my inheritance and I used it for special occasions. It was packed away on a move and forgotten until I went on my spree to find things to give away. I captured a photo of the work of art before it was once again packed away for my move to Huntington Beach, California.
In my blog about the art of crochet you’ll see I’m making an afghan for my youngest son and his bride, Michael and Jodee. I like making afghans for my family, and that requires larger hooks than my granny’s slender metal hooks.
The completed Aran afghan looks like this
It’s displayed on a queen size bed, so it is adequate to cover son’s 6’3″ fame. His step-daughter liked it so well she asked me to make one for her. If I don’t get busy she’ll think I’m never going to finish.
I wish I had a clever segue here, but I never do in conversation, so why try here. Another thing I treasure is my health. You’d never know by what I did this morning. My sister went to Shipley’s Donut Shop and bought treats for her grandsons. She brought us an egg and bacon croissant that we shared. I requested an apple fritter that we would share later. I’m sorry to admit it but I gave in to temptation and started pulling little pieces from the fritter. As soon as I came to my senses I came upstairs to my desk and picked up on my work for day 20. Before long my brain was awash in carbohydrates/sugar from my breakfast. At this point my writing became sloppy and disjointed. I stopped and sought a remedy, I take 5 mL/cc of injectable Humulin for occasions like this. I don’t do it often, but it is necessary. Most of the time I manage with an eating plan and Metformin pills take orally. When I do have to inject it keeps me on the narrow path to health for a while.
SUGAR + DIABETES = POISON.
Father, help me to control my appetite for sugary treats and enjoy the beautiful natural bounty of fruit and vegetables. Amen