I live alone with my preschooler in an off-grid cabin on a remote island off the coast of British Columbia.
"Don't wish me happiness I don't expect to be happy all the time....It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Sunday, 24 July 2016
The long, endless, dreamy summer days are filled with easy warmth, free time and endless inspiration. I have to keep pinching myself to see if this is for real. I spend hours at my loom while my daughter sits next to me weaving on her loom. At last I am at the loom long enough to weave tapestry. It has been many years to get to this point. I treasure those years and I have no regrets about my decision not to weave tapestry during her babyhood. When I finally put that first warp on two years ago this September I got so much joy just looking at the warped loom that it more than made up for the fact that all I had was bits of time. It is now that I have time and I am relishing this new freedom. I lose track of time and a day pass's unnoticed. Shocked I wonder how that could happen - I do after all have a phone to remind me- but wait a minute- I didn't turn it on. I spend the afternoon on the floor drawing out a weaving cartoon while my daughter sits beside me tracing her hands with a pencil and than colouring them with felt markers. Than she draws moons. Earlier that morning before the sun peeked over the mainland hills we had walked the beach gathering rocks and shells and we had admired the luminescence of a full moon hanging over the island. Her moons are bright and colourful and many are striped. She is in love with what she is doing. "Mommy I can't have supper until my work is done," she says. Apparently that means using up the large sheet of paper I gave her. I smile feeling the joy in my own heart. Life is full and sweet like that moon.
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