Emma's Birthday Card

I never showed you Emma's card, did I? Hers was the one I crafted on the roads between Michigan and Minnesota. This is not an approach I would recommend, as the motion of the car makes placement of stitches a challenge and everything takes much longer. I'd expected to deliver her card on her birthday, the day of our return, except of course we didn't return when we were supposed to. I lost some of my sewing momentum as soon as I realised I wouldn't be able to give it to her as planned

Jet lag hit me in a big way when we got back: not able to go to sleep or stay asleep at night, but not really able to sleep well during daylight hours either. I felt dizzy and nauseated a good part of the day, not to mention exhausted. I dragged myself around this way for over a week. Then we went to Manchester for a few days, so I wasn't at the sewing group. I'd not yet finished Emma's card and it was very late by now. After waffling about what do for age, I finally I decided to finish it, wrap it and take it to her at the sewing group and let her decide whether to accept it late or wait until next year.


I was due to take cakes to the sewing group that next Tuesday. On the Monday I made some spice cake muffins and separated the egg whites for an angel food cake, which is my favourite but always a challenge for me. Tuesday morning, the angel food cake just didn't work out (what a sticky mess!). I solved that problem the old fashioned way -- I 'threw money at it' buying donuts and chocolate cupcakes.


Only when I got there, no one was at at the sewing group. I was panicked that someone else had died and they were at a funeral. After all one of the hazards of attending this group is a closer association with death. In my short acquaintance they've lost a member, a husband, a daughter, a brother and countless acquaintances. I finally pestered the administrator of the centre to find the email where Nora had cancelled the group meeting for two weeks, for no particular reason I could tell.


I was a bit annoyed at having all these sweets, some of which would even tempt me, and still somewhat worried about what was going on. I called a couple of the ladies before reaching one and finding that due to holidays they had just decided to take a break. I could meet them for coffee in the village if I wished. Instead, I rang Emma and found her at home. She lives alone now her husband is gone, which happened before my time. She was pleased to have her card and a spice cake muffin to go with her tea and we had a lovely visit.


I so enjoyed seeing her house and her quilts and she so enjoyed having a visitor I decided the day had turned out very well after all. The sweets got stashed in the freezer. A few weeks later, after I succumbed to thawing and eating two of the apple filled donuts, the remainders went into the trash. I do hate waste, but there is no point in torturing oneself, is there?