How nice it would be to end this year with a nice composition of words - what else can it be? For I am not a musician. Each time I start, my thoughts slip to something I don't want to be thinking of. I can't seem to help it though I can. Everything seems to be going just fine then some wretched date or time creeps to the surface of my battered thoughts. Have I not been busy enough? Has happened so much that I have taken the best part of two months reading 'A Breath of Snow and Ashes' and am still at 75%. Is it just that this particular novel is lengthier than the others?
Moving on, all things considered, I believe I have held myself up much better than I expected. I can laugh, really laugh, which says a whole lot. Looking back, doesn't look like I have done much throughout the year but I'm still exhausted. I still didn't get to do all my needlework, much less the sewing. Doesn't matter though. Am still breathing, that's what matters - though at the moment I feel close to death's stairway or dungeon?
For this coming year, am picking up cross-stitching. Will see how it goes since it will be self taught. Everything is. Until whenever, I hope for all the best.
