my slow book is slowly growing...
in the evening,
the fire is glowing,
our kidlins have stared dreaming their dreams
(we are early-to-bed, early-to-rise farm folk, so kidlins are usually fast asleep by 8pm)
the fire is glowing,
our kidlins have stared dreaming their dreams
(we are early-to-bed, early-to-rise farm folk, so kidlins are usually fast asleep by 8pm)
I get out my booky bundles and start stitching...
the book creature spills from my lap and along the lounge chair
it's almost 2m 'long' already (how did that happen?)
often one of the beastie cats curls itself inside the book coils...
careful not to tread on the pages - good cats!
I pat the cat and the book
and go back to stitching
With hands engaged, my mind can wander
I am thinking about my forthcoming BIG road trip to Byron Bay Writers Festival
for my stint as the Festival's first ever artist-in-residence
(gulp)
I've decided to take this emerging book creature with me
(I'm sure it would appreciate a good road trip -
just as I would appreciate the comforting presence
of a book to stitch...)
just as I would appreciate the comforting presence
of a book to stitch...)
...