Below Zero

I've been working on my rug orders during the deep freeze. Jean's New Year's resolution to walk every day (with me, though it is not my resolution) has been disrupted by the biting cold wind,
and our desire to stay in close by our fires. This multicolor striped rug turned out much prettier than I hoped, since I sometimes think this kind of rug can be too chaotic, or conversely, muddy. This one stayed bright, and has been a cheerful piece of work. Now my warp is at an end.

The papery things were some leftovers that survived the old shop fire: a piece of treasured tissue paper from a children's book store where I worked, long before this farm, and weaving, and children ever happened. The pink paper lantern, oh, I never tire of these. The little left behind gift card says, Happy Birthday, Sofie. Love Mom.

I'm feeling sentimental because my good cat, Feltbackie, finally died. It's below zero, and I'm feeling a little numb. Probably it's grief. And that same day, I stepped on, and broke my glasses. My new rug, the old papery things, my good dead cat, and the broken glasses, though unrelated, are now inextricably lumped together in my memory.