Energy

This is what I'm finding out this week--if you don't have to go to work, you have time and energy for playing. I'm not heading for any "goals" this week, I'm letting myself play. (And read. Read and play.)

A new padfolio and lots and lots of snow

Hancocks had the most unusual batik on sale before Christmas, and the second I saw it, I knew it had to be a padfolio for my co-worker, Cindy. She and her husband raise longhorns and she's a fan of a football team in Texas that are called the Horns, I guess, so it just seemed destined to be. Joann's had the most perfect little horn button, too, and I used a leather cord to hold it closed.


It turned out really well, I think. (Ok, some of the cows are upside down, but we don't really need to see that.

The other thing going on for the past couple of weeks is the phenomenal amount of snow we've had. By Sunday morning the snow was up to my hip--3 feet of heavy, wet snow. We had 10" in one night. It's melting now, but more keeps showing up in the forecast. It's dramatic, if nothing else.

More Christmas cards

I finished the rest of the Christmas postcards I'm sending out this winter. Next year I'm hoping to start earlier and get more done. The one on the left is for my mom. They were more simple than I wanted them to be, but I just keep running out of time. (But I'm not going to bemoan my job because I'm feeling more and more lucky that I have one.)

I think that with the week off I have after Christmas I'm going to get started on next year's batch while I'm still in the spirit. I just bought a batch of Transfer Artist Paper and I'm eager to put some different images on next year's batch.

I find myself wondering what things will be like next year. My mother is declining much more quickly now than she had been, and my sister-in-law is still fighting stage 4 lung cancer. So much can change in 12 months. I find myself wanting to appreciate people while they're with me, more than before.
We had a spectacular sunset last week that I just had to share. It's really inspiring, somehow, to see this on a cold winter's evening. It's like the sun sending a "Don't worry--I'm still here!" message.