This is the first gift I told you about. It's a glorious clump of wild grasses the wind brought into our yard over the summer that is beautiful now and will be beautiful dusted with snow in months to come.
The second gift was from Ellis after he read my post about not having received any get well flowers. He brought me this lovely basket of mums that eventually will join the other mums in our garden, a perennial reminder of our knee project.
And the third gift was found in a book I read, The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. I ordered it as soon as I finished reading about it in a post Celeste Bergin published last week. The authors views confirmed my opinion that there is no such thing as a creative block, even though for thirty some odd years I thought I was suffering from one in regards to painting. Turns out I liked working at design better than I liked painting. Now That my design career is past, painting has become a focal point. We work at whatever we like to do that pays off with satisfaction and coin. When that disappears, we reinvent ourselves and work at another skill we kept on the back burner. All that guilt I felt for neglecting that God given gift was for naught; I was just too satisfied by another God given gift. I liked the book. Thanks Celeste.