speaking with my life

it is dark in my shoppe, my sewing room, my show room all rolled into one, this morning, hours before the sun comes up.  the windows reflect the light from my lamp. 

i come here in the early quiet, pour the coffee, play a little with my puppy, browse through my book stash and my fabric stash and see and almost can hear my patchwork dreams.
what story does today tell?  it is finally april, and am turning one. bwahahaha!  one after the gold, that is.

we all are telling stories, in the every day that we live.  some do it with words, some with colours.  some do it with their crazy ideas.  some tell theirs in microphones, others near microwaves.  we speak with our movements, our meals, our routines, our laughter, our compassion, our grief, our to-do lists.  right now, i do it with my patchworks.  what do i say?

i speak of hope, love, fear, thruth. how do i say it?  loud  or in whispers?  maybe, either way is alright.  in my living, i learn something or teach something.

today, on this regular tuesday, i know this for sure:  i have a story and i let my life tell it.  and it is good!  bwahahaha!