Lace and Feathers


It was  a beautiful day in New York today.  I decided to tak e a walk outside during my lunch hour for a change.  The park seemed too crowded,  so I headed to M&J Trimming, one of my favorite notions stores in the city.   I can spend the whole day in there just browsing.  I just wanted to unwind and be amongst things I’d love to run my fingers through and texture I can touch.  I was hoping to browse their shelves and shelves of lace to find something to experiment with as far as “imprinting” on polymer clay is concerned.  I browsed, I touched, and picked two patterns.

On the way out, I stopped by their wall of feathers and a lightbulb lit up in my head that made me pick up one.  (Projects will be in the GothamChick blog.)

Pheasant Feather

Sometimes, all it takes is a quiet moment to help me get myself out of a rut.  Sometimes, it works, sometimes it doesn’t —sometimes it just doesn’t go.  A momentary distraction, I guess.  It helps.

People seem to be busy today, or tonight in Manila.  I didn’t hear from BFF Fe.  She has a funny habit of waking up at 2am which is now past, so I guess she’s fast asleep.  (She finally did say hello when she woke up Friday morning.)  I did catch my youngest brother, Nikki.

By evening, my allergies hit me hard.  My eyes are puffy and teary, and the allergy meds are taking time to kick in.  I”m trying to just “quiet” down before I turn in.  The boy’s homework’s all done, bathed and he’s headed to lala land.

I’m still struggling through the allergies.  I just logged on because I had to print something out.  I guess my lace and feather will have to wait until tomorrow when the allergies will hopefully be gone.

One of those days…

Pink RoseSome days are better than others.  Sometimes motherhood can be such a challenge, and try as I might, I feel like I’m not performing as best as I can.  Am I teaching my son the right things about life?  Am I succeeding in trying to make him a good person?

It is not often but my son can drive me to tears sometimes.  In his innocent way, he doesn’t realize he has such power to tear my heart to pieces.  It’s not his fault.  Perhaps it is because I am his mother and he is my son.  He is, after all, the most important person in the world to me.  His happiness reigns supreme over mine.  It is difficult to put into words even now…  I can’t help but wonder how many such sacrifices and heartaches I have caused my own mother.  She wouldn’t have told me, like I am keeping things to myself now.  He wouldn’t understand anyway.

So I let the tears flow… I wipe them away… I take a deep breath, and I look at him from afar.  I call him to me and ask for a hug which he gives so lovingly and unconditionally.