I haven't been here in awhile.  At a time where we shed our memes like snake skin, it would be entirely appropriate to reorganize my thoughts on another blog.  But I've been here before too, wondering about this public display of my life.  I certainly don't do it for money.  If I was publicly shamed for any of my content, that would likely censure me from ever putting anything on again.  I think of this blog, like I've written before, as my mother's back hallway gallery of rogues.  My heart will be shared with my sister and friends, my private thoughts will remain that way, but for anyone I would greet on the street or in my daily sorties I would share a picture or two on my phone, and tell you a story (and hope you aren't rolling your eyes).  The origin of this blog was to write uniquely about belly-dancing, rugs and knitting.  I don't belly-dance anymore, though I have doumbek that I'm trying to learn.  I don't buy rugs anymore, though I'm always an admirer of world textiles, North African and Middle Eastern in particular.  And I always knit.  Always.

So this happened.  I last left you in the throes of depression and shock during the longest winter of my first year in this new city, without acquaintances or a job.  I reached out and made friends through knitting meetups and Bill W.  I took a Tier B series on a Canadian comedy show, doing a job I did thirty years ago.  Then another job.  Then I swore off work.  Then I did another job, which turned into eighteen months of blech.  Then I swore off work.  Four babies have been born and two weddings have happened, not in that order.  The world, to my eyes, turned mean(er).  I figured out what to do in retirement, finally.  I finally, mostly, put down fears and resentment from my middle life.

And Edgar died.  The buddy that was my impetus and companion for change these past eight years died in my arms at the end of July.  I quit my big job when he was a puppy for more time with him.  I moved a city and a continent to open up the life he brought to me.  He co-captained with me.  He lay at my feet, and slept with me at night. His eyes followed me wherever I was.  And me to him.   He was the constant presence of unconditional love that got me from there to here.

Guess I'll be seeing more of this blog now.  No Edgar.  More sewing.  Always knitting.  Always textiles.  More food.  Yes swimming.  Yes babies.  Yes family.  Some painting.  Some gardening.  Some travel.