the bee sweater my mother made

We all have our talents we can share with one another.  My husband has some kind of miraculous patience that can wisp over me like a shroud; he saves me from so much strange anxiety.  He's also a talented musician--his guitar playing was what caught my eye nearly sixteen years ago.  My sister has compassion that surprises me at its depth; she's also a mighty good artist.  She married a musician too.  Throughout my undergraduate years, my father would make comments on my essays at the last moment, every last moment, despite the zillions of essays for his own students that needed help, more help, just as urgently.

My own mama.  Here's one of hers.  She knit this beautiful sweater on teeny tiny (size 1?) needles with sock yarn.  There are little bees on it and honeycombs and it's so warm and delicious and I'm so envious at how absolutely good she is.  And for the first time, my little girl cooperated with a photo shoot.  She ran around her other grandma's front yard and let me take her photograph as she whirled about.  Don't you love her spirit?