I celebrated this afternoon by baking rosemary pine nut biscotti, some of which I am now eating with a cuppa tea and lemon. I grew up on tea with lemon every night after dinner. Over the years, I have switched to drinking it 'au nature' -- but tonight, lemon. What would Freud say about THAT? As to the baking, my husband knows the significance of that: it is comfort, therapy, and pure happiness for me to bake. It rivals being in the studio -- with the additional pleasure of knowing the result will be good every time.
Earlier this week, I did seek comfort in the studio. I thought there should be something I could do to improve this piece of cotton I had batik'd last year and then discharged. It was okay, but not great. So I took half of it and went to work.
I like it better now: the wonderful warrior guy shows up better with the dark dyes. He was a gift from Helene when she was here visiting me in January and he makes me smile, too. Don't you think we need all the smiles we can get?
Gee, it is only 9:00. Seems later, but what do I know? I can get to work on the facing of the piece that is sitting on my table or I can make a phone call or two. On the other hand...