Thursday, February 27, 2014


Accidents like this are recalled in snippets.  Sudden flashes that remind me it's all real.  Images that greet me before I even open my eyes in the morning, waking into another day of getting up, splashing water on my face, and getting to the hospital.  As I drive I remember what day it is and what the original plan was before the crash.  Hotel reservations never cancelled, road trip dates passed, and daily routines slammed to a halt.  It's all a blur as I make it from League City to Ben Taub Hospital in downtown Houston.  Though the days are long I carry on.  My husband is alive.  Everything else is insignificant. 
On February 19, 2014, Kevin was riding his motorcycle to Mancuso Power Sports to check out some bags for his new Ducati Mutistrada. He just returned from Singapore the day before and in three weeks he would be riding a motorcycle through the back roads around Cape Town, South Africa.  It was a good day. I followed behind him so we could grab some lunch while we left the bike at the shop for a routine check. Merging on to 59 South from 610 North in Belaire, my husband was blind sided by an SUV that made a crazy last minute, illegal lane change.  That snippet plays over and over. I see a car beginning to change lanes.  One car separates me from my husband.  Though I can't see my husband's bike I know there isn't room for that vehicle coming over. And then I see something like a ragdoll go up in the air and back down out of my sight. I know he's down.

There are other snippets that endlessly loop: my frantic screams, my husband unresponsive on the road, the stillness of traffic halted, the deafening fear in the silence of knowing this is life or death.
Angels also come in snippets.  It's amazing how many people stay in their cars and watch but then there are the few that come to help.  The man who sees everything and is first to call 911.  A complete stranger who prays over my husband and in that moment he wakes. A man who reminds my husband to breathe. The neurosurgeon just ahead of the scene who runs back to assess Kevin while we wait for first responders to make their way through snarled traffic.  Every driver who pulled aside to let the ambulance through.  The woman who gave me a hug.  I'll never know who these people are in their everyday lives but in their moments of stopping for strangers and doing whatever they could, they will always be angels in my heart.
Today is day 8 in the hospital.  These hours also play out in snippets though they feel like one uninterrupted sequence of lightless days. Emily, our daughter, and I take our comfort here.  We pass the moments with quiet pursuits waiting for the day we remember the healing journey in distant snippets.


Saturday, February 8, 2014

A Bunny Returns To Bangladesh

Funny how full circles go.  It is the nature of up-cycling: reusing, repurposing, reinventing to reduce waste.  In the case of this wee bunny- his full circle brings him back to Bangladesh.  Back to where the cashmere sweater used to make him was made.
So many items sold in America are made in Bangladesh.  Search any closet, store rack or boutique and inside the manufacturing tag Bangladesh surely makes a showing.  I never gave this much thought until my husband began spending a lot of time in Bangladesh.  His job brings him to Dhaka several weeks out of the year- so often in fact that the hotel welcomes him "home to his second home".  That's probably not a good thing. There's no tourism in such a poor city so any repeat guest is highly appreciated.

After Kev's first trip to Dhaka he swore he would never return.  He was appalled by the poverty and desperation.  Now on his eighth return trip, he has an understanding of the culture and a curiosity for how people can be so friendly in a place of poverty unimaginable by American standards.  He has been followed several blocks by small children looking for food.  He sees people bathing in the same water where sewage runs. Dhaka's smog and filth eclipse most sunlight.  The air constantly muffled by an assault of car horns as makeshift vehicles clog roads.  But yet he finds color, beauty and vibrancy in this city.
As for bunny, she was born from an up-cycled cashmere sweater made in Bangladesh (most likely in one of the many clothing factories in Dhaka), sold in America, and cast aside after a moth made a meal of it.  She will be a gift to the new baby of my husband's co-worker who lives in Dhaka.  This bunny will be in a safe home.  But this got me thinking about the many children of Dhaka who will sleep on the streets, often fending for themselves for food, shelter and safety. Could a bunny make a difference in a child's life? 
Some ideas are fleeting.  We get a notion to do something bigger than ourselves- feel like there's a spiritual nod in this direction or cause but we get overwhelmed by how to transfer a belief into action. This is where I am- stuck between seeing signs and trusting the direction.  So for now this bunny returns to her roots to bring smiles to a newborn girl as she grows.  And who knows; maybe one day both this wee girl and her bunny will make a difference in this world.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Studio Mice Stealing Hearts

January went by faster than a startled cat!  It was a month of studio changes, refocus, and wake up calls- but more on that later.  Today is a light and fluffy kind of return to my blogging side.  Today is a day to introduce the studio mice of 2014. 
The new studio mice are made of up-cycled wool and cashmere.
They are simple critters with big hearts.
Though they are quiet and relatively unobtrusive, they do tend to multiply quickly.

To see more studio mice, check out where they dwell on Early Work Mercantile,  Etsy, and Hendley Market.