I would like to write about sitting in the park making crotchet flowers, and how feeling unwell sometimes can be a blessing in disguise because it makes me stop and practise simplicity. I'd like to write about how practising gratitude has made my eyes shine brighter.
I'd like to write about how even at my age, I still have brain freeze whenever someone asks me what I do, and I sometimes wonder if I'd find it easier if they were to ask me who I am instead. Would it be easier to be defined by who we are, rather than what we do, or should we even be defined at all?
I'd like to write about my recent acquisition of a sewing machine and how excited I am about learning to sew, even though I spend a lot of time looking at the sewing machine and it looks right back at me. I think it looks friendly enough so I shall give it a go. I am especially excited about the 12 week sewing course I have signed up to.
To end, I shall write about my lovely knitted chicks, and how happy they still make me even though Easter seems a long time ago now. They remind me that it's spring and that it's possible for dreams to come true, even the littlest ones. I always wanted to learn to knit pretty things, and now I can.
