White lines running down blue background. Richard said to just let it keep running through the files, that’s what it was doing, trying to mend itself.
Okay, well, we can hope.
Woke up this morning to find my PC sitting primly waiting for me to sign in. Who knew. (He did. Go Richard.) Yay!
Annnnd…
I had one last thing to do last night on that project I’d just finished: block it. Wouldn’t take long.
I was sitting on the floor with it on top of an old quilt back, moving the damp stitches just so here and a little more there, leaning over it as I worked. It was about bedtime and I was tired. Moved a bit–and I heard it before I felt it. There was no mistaking and no pleading and no no please no. My hand I’d been leaning on had been on my hair (it was?) and I’d ripped it right out of the side of my head.
The skin cancer, the back of the hairdryer that sucked it in while I worked on the freezer, this–maybe this just isn’t the year to keep the hair long.