cardinal for spring; for Nina, my April child
goldfinch for summer; for Zoe, my busy Julymeister
chickadee for winter; for Lily, my snow-loving March child
We all enjoyed them for an hour or so, till it was time to set up for small group. We have a great group of friends from Boulder Mennonite -- twice a month we get together for potluck and sharing. One of the best things (second to the friendships, of course), is the variety of food. Seems like each person enjoys cooking and trying new things. So we have fresh, organic, homemade, distinctive, almost every time.
Here's where things get fuzzy in my memory: Folks were arriving and the table was filling up. It seemed that my little crafty show-and-tell might not be at the top of the list for the evening, so I remember moving the plates, carefully, off the table, to ..... I know not where.
It's killing me. My mother-in-law, one of life's best "diggers and finders", could not find them in my house two weeks ago. My husband has tried to imagine my thought process in that hurried moment, and he's looked in places of soft, stored linens and clothing, cabinets and the like. Nothing. I, thinking I was really on my toes, have looked in all of the same places, and also in the big wooden art "flat file" down in my shop. What more protected space could I have found?
In an act of faith, I painted the shelf my friend Tomas made for me last year to display these plates on (yes, it took me what, 10 months, to find a day to paint) ... I pray for dreams to show me where my hands placed them after I lifted them off the kitchen table ... nothing.
So now I need a cadre of dedicated friends to join me in wishing, hoping, praying, that these missing objects of my affection will exit the fog they have been under for the past month and bring me joy once again. Until they do, this is what I've got: a fuzzy cell phone photo (prior to glazing and firing). Woe is me...
