Time flies. . .

Time does fly, sometimes. These are weird times, life in the time of Covid. I am working from home for now, making me feel freer to browse some of my old habits, like blogging. The modern journal, in my case, an electronic picking up of the dog-eared diary of my youth.

Today's milestone? I just finished my latest needlepoint canvas. I remembered that I'd written a post about a new stitching project-- ELEVEN years ago. Holy cow. Anyway, I started this one not long after I'd posted about it, then put it away for a long time.

The colors are wonderful, but so subtle I needed bright light to keep the blues and the greens separate. The only free time I had was in the evenings, and the light was never good enough. New job and other life changes also interrupted my concentration. It is now finished, and I declare myself pleased. 

It is kind of bittersweet, my obsession with a bee motif. The urban hives in my yard have been abandoned for several seasons now. It is difficult to keep a hive going through the winter here. Not that we are all that consistently cold, but because we are not, the mite problems are not to be trifled with. My bee partners and I preferred not to chemically intervene as much as some bee keepers do, and I'm sure that contributed to our hive losses. The hive boxes still sit there, an admonishment to our pride at our first bumper harvest. It is expensive to start all over again, which we did for three years in a row, so my bee partners and I have decided to leave off for now. Now that I'm working for a local university, maybe I'll inquire to see if the biology department has any interest in the equipment. Or maybe we'll try again. Hope springs eternal.