Saturday morning we attended the funeral of a parishioner’s mother, a venerable 95 year old matriarch. The burial was north of the town in an old family cemetery. It was beautifully clear and sunny and breezy, but quite cold. This may be the first time I’ve ever been grateful not to have been under the tent in the shade.
May Lorraine’s memory be eternal!
On the way home I cast off the shawl I’ve been making, finishing off the last few stitches a few blocks from the house. It will show up in the shop soon.