So much has been happening and all the while I’ve been letting it.

Here are a few highlights and catch ups.

Ken went to bow and arrow camp for a week. He had a ball and came home with a beaut of a bow and a dozen arrows. We set up a cardboard target in the back yard and have been shooting. It is almost as fun as shooting golfs!

Moser and Marian came to visit while Ken was away. It was nice and they helped keep me somewhat sane, as I don’t live alone well.

I’ve been sewing. The “quilt as you go” technique I learned from Marsha and You Tube is a fun way to use up fabric! I like the process.

I ask that no one look to close at the stitching though. While my quilts have always been far from perfect, and I know a “poor workman blames their tools,” — one reason the stitching isn’t so great right now, and it is hard to accept, is the sewing machine I inherited from mom is getting old. It has a few hours on it now and has cranked out well over 40 quilts. (not all mine, mom was a quilter too) It’s been tuned up several times and yet… even though it was the Cadillac of machines back in the day, it is now just an old work horse. I am beginning to think it may need replacing soon. The horror!

The biggest thing on my mind right now are all the changes going on in New Mexico for my brother Art.

He sold the house we all grew up in and the movers come tomorrow. The deal closes on the 18th and an era will end.

The house at 90 Manhattan Loop will no longer be the Hudson house. Some of the best times and  also, a lot of the worst times in my life were spent in that house. A thousand memories are held in those walls. My mind goes there often enough and I wonder where it will go now when someone I don’t know moves in.

I’m proud of Art. He did well. I know he drove the realtor crazy with his stubbornness, but he got what he wanted, and did what he needed. He’s now beginning a new and hopefully easier life, in a place he will be happier.

I do wish I could snap my fingers though, and be in Dodge right now. I’d like to sit on the roof one last time and smoke a cigar and toast a final farewell.

A Hudson has lived in the house since 1955, and depending when you peeked into the window, there were good times and horrid.

I moved out a long time ago and still, I’m very emotional just thinking about Art closing the door and maybe even locking it for the very first time, as he steps out and into a new adventure.

Salute.