Instinct is better than thought at times......

When I sat down to start blanket stitching the hearts, my brain went into a little spin. Do I remember where to start? Is it in the heart or under the heart? Which way do I hold it? You know the story. Uncertainty. In the mind. So I picked up the needle and thread, and forget the mind fluster, my FINGERS remembered what to do, and instantly they were off and sewing. They knew what to do when my mind went awol.

Nice fingers. I like you. Old and arthritic - you still work.

Life is like that sometimes. The fear or worry consumes you and yet your body, or soul, (or fingers) know just what to do if you just relax and let them. Or let me rephrase that - if I let them. The crocheting is the same - I look at the hook and wool and think I don't remember how to do something, and yet, when I pick them up, the wool winds itself round my hand in perfect loops and off we go. Too much thinking is not always a good idea. Rationalising is not always necessary. And instinct is there - always.


The other scarf - I am wearing it as I speak. It is COLD yet again.

This morning, I popped down to the Infant School in the village (ages 3-6) on a quest. Once, years ago - probably 16 or so - I traced their wooden lower case letters to use for applique. 16 years ago. Maybe 17. And do I know where all those traced letters are? Or course not. But, undaunted, I presented myself in the lobby and asked if I could borrow their wooden letters to trace again. I was armed with sheets of card and a pencil. They didn't know me from Adam, I have to say - well, not until the older staff appeared and had hysterics when I told them I last traced the letters 16+ years ago. And guess what - they knew exactly what I was talking about and duly arrived with the boxes. Success.

And while I traced them, I listened to the little voices, and the sounds of singing and chatter, and I was transported back to the time when David went there, and I was a parent helper once a week. It was warm, and bright and smelled of glue and crayons and how can my little boy be a giant now, almost ready to graduate from university?

Sigh. If anyone has worked out how to slow things down a little, please let me know.

Speaking of slowing things down...... I went to the Women's Breakfast at the church in the village on Saturday morning, and the talk was on Oberammergau. The Passion Play is performed once every ten years. Last year, was one of them, and then next one is in 2020. I remember going there as a little girl in 1966, and walking on the stage, and thinking that one day when I grew up, I wanted to come and see it.

So there I was listening on Saturday, and the though suddenly popped up in mind that I possibly have just one more chance to go and see it. For goodness sake, I will be 66 next time it is on. And given the decline in physical whatsits since I turned 50, 76 may be pushing it a bit. One chance left!

I say again.... where on earth have those decades gone?

Bigger sigh.

I wonder how far in advance one can reserve seats................