MUSINGS ON CHANGE

It froze again last night. The high today is in the mid-50s.

Get ready – DST this weekend. Spring your clock ahead an hour on Sunday (March 9).

I must keep my thoughts warm and flexible amidst the turmoil, I tell myself. No grudges. No resentment. It’s important! But sometimes it’s hard.

As I looked at my phone last night, I realized that I no longer need the JoAnn app, so I removed it. I also unsubscribed from JoAnn email. “All stores closing,” it says, so no use to cling to the past, but it’s the end of a long era. I wasn’t paying much attention anyway. I long ago realized that the coupons didn’t make much difference for the little I spent at the store, especially when the discounts only applied to regular-priced merchandise, and at JoAnn’s, most everything was on sale. And now, of course, there are no coupons. It’s just that I will miss JoAnn at that little shopping center where I also bought groceries. No more “one stop shopping.”

A new fabric / yarn shop has opened in town, and I was amused to read that open days and hours are limited – only Wednesday through Saturday and different hours most every day with no evening hours. Maybe it will work. I wish them well. But I was just thinking – if I need some handwork notion, I can order it Sunday and have it Tuesday, literally before the shop re-opens. The new shop may appeal to quilters who demand the best quality fabric for their work, but I’ve always thought those people are in the minority of sewists.

And then we heard that the reporter who covered Milo’s wrongful death with accurate, thoughtful articles has left the local newspaper to pursue a new opportunity. She kindly sent a personal notification to our family and said that another reporter will take over future installments of our story, but still, it seems like a loss. Silly to feel that way, I know.

Early next month, Mike and I and other family members (Murray, Clinton, and Hallie) will travel to Boise to attend the sentencing of Milo’s murderer. Immediate family members have the right to address the defendant, and every day I rehearse my speech. I’m a homebody – always have been – so it’s not easy for me to step up to this. It’s not the speaking but the travel and the break in my routine that causes me angst. I’m one angry mama, and I am more than happy to air my views, but I will be relieved when it’s over. KW