Sometimes, there is just too much to say.  Then, it makes sense to stitch.  Words come easily to threads and needles.  They know their way, following one another, curving a line here, twisting a rosy knot there.   The silver eyes flash up and down, pulling color through the fabric,  and the path of least resistance opens.  The story comes out.  It finds its place among the company and coffee cups.  It belongs in the fabric, too.

That is what Wednesday afternoons are for.