September 1st came and went. The Etsy shop opened again. And like clockwork, I’m crocheting again. It never fails. The very thought of crocheting or knitting or quilting in the summer sends me screaming from the room. But somehow, once the tiniest hint of autumn is in the air, what seemed impossible the day before now seems utterly right.

It’s not like the weather is cool here. On the contrary, it’s rainy and humid. Gray and depressing. Yucky. Nevertheless, out came the yarn, the hook and the pattern. My fingers remembered the rhythm and movement of the hook and the yarn. Everything flowed.

It feels good.

I have some Etsy orders to fill which should be going out today or tomorrow at the latest. I’m also going to make some Crochet Flower Garlands in these luscious colors of Peaches & Creme Cotton:

It will be fun experimenting with color combinations. The color in the photo is a wee bit off (remember today’s weather report?) but this gives you an idea of what I’m playing with. I like the idea of the darker lavender/purple coupled with the lighter lavender. Or, in one of my favorite combinations, the lighter lavender with the apple green. What about red and yellow? Brenda? I’m also going to start in on some Obsession Scarves in solids and gradients.

It’s the first day of school around these parts. I’ve already seen several bright yellow school buses drive by. Scout loves barking at the school bus – it’s one of her favorite things to do. Well, Scout, you’re all set for several months. Bark away.

Several of you have taken the time to check in on me, asking how I’m doing, how we’re adjusting to life without Riley. Sometimes I’m okay. At other moments, I’m struck by a memory or I see something outside or some other trigger occurs and suddenly I’m sobbing. I know you’ve felt it, too. I will go along, everything seeming normal, until I’m confronted with something that reminds me that he’s gone, that, no, everything isn’t normal. Everything has changed.

The other night, we were watching The Palm Beach Story on TCM. There’s a scene on a train with a lot of hunters and their hunting dogs. The dogs, in their own compartment, start barking and baying. That triggered the memory of Riley barking along with Scout, which always gave me great joy. I realized I would never hear that again. Would the particular sound and cadence of his bark fade from my mind? Would I eventually forget how he looked when he was ‘singing’ with Scout? That happens. But I don’t want it to.

I can still remember the sound of my brother’s voice, 21 years after he died. We’ve just passed the anniversary of his death. If I can remember his voice all these many years later, surely I can remember my boy’s bark? I want to freeze frame those memories; the sight, the sound, the texture, the way he smelled when I leaned in close to kiss his head. I want to put them in a box for safekeeping.

Yesterday, we got the call that his ashes are in. I’m not ready for that yet. When Winston died and I went to pick up his ashes, I totally lost it. It was much more painful than I had envisioned. I try to stay positive on this blog, but the truth is that we have been having a very hard time of it lately. We’re hanging in there, but sometimes it’s very hard to be hopeful. Life has thrown us a few curves and, frankly, we’re overwhelmed. But we’re strong and resilient and basically positive people. We just have to find our way back to hope and joy. And we will.

Happy Wednesday, my friends.