Old things that are new to me.
* The heart is something new I embroidered with pearl cotton thread, inspired by Milagros. When we were cleaning out my grandparents’ house, I brought home this salmon colored upholstery fabric (for reasons I can’t fathom now). It’s synthetic and pills like nobody’s business, but looks just like velvet when stitched up. Shortly after being sold, my grandparents’ house, the home that my grandfather built from scratch, was bulldozed. Losing that landmark, the family nerve center, left us all disoriented. But making new things with what was left behind feels like a way of returning home, if not physically, at least in memory.
* The water in the river melted, but if I walk down there early enough in the morning there’s still ice on the side, the cold not quite ready to give up. Today, though, all of the melt upriver has the water whooshing by and I’m typing this listening to the deluge outside my window. Spring comes when you least expect it.
* I don’t poke around Portland as much as I should, because it’s a delightful city. But the last time I did, I spotted this building (that type!) and thoroughly enjoyed Bam Bam Bakery.