Creative Practice Day 48

I have little experience stitching. Weaving thread between threat. somehow ending up with a shirt. or a sock or a scarf. (is knitting just big stitching? i don't know)
  but as of late I feel as though I am stitching a home into being
  It's very difficult. To even find time but taking that time is the only thing keeping me together in one piece
  losing one home, a short oddessy later and three empty rooms left much to be desired
  On the rare nights when the squirming wrenching progress of life and all her busyness comes to a drifting halt
  the engines of the plane pause and all you hear is wind
  and I find myself in a home. I have curtains and a dishwasher I have a stove and a chair next to it waiting for the winter months
  I bought a lamp to journal and write my friends letters underneath
  I want this stillness every night but it feels like chasing the white stag