Made a new bed quilt. Don’t touch it, dude.

At last — I finally sewing a new quilt for my bed. And I really need it.

No one has slept under it except me.

It has no man-related memories.

This is MY quilt, my shield, my exquisite armor. It’s my protection from the pressures of the upcoming holiday season.

Many moons ago, I bought the cream-and-black quilting fabrics. But I was always too busy to haul out my sewing machine to tackle this project. Then, I gave myself a deadline. I wanted to sleep under it during the holidays. After cramming in a few hours here and there, I was done by this past weekend.

It turned out even nicer than I expected. The funky mix of vintage-inspired prints are lovely and lively. The whole thing is also delightfully puffy — practically a soft sculpture — because it’s filled with the thickest, highest-loft batting I could find.

So now I’m ready to take on the festivities! The ones all about nuclear family togetherness! Filled with happy couples sharing soft-focus, romantic moments! Since I have selective memories of that kind of life, divorce left me feeling like a social misfit. Last winter was a little different since I had that rarity: A boyfriend. Well, he’s gone now.

I’m still here.

The Queen’s private chambers

This winter, I’m emotionally ready to be a happy, single woman. No more faking it.

Hard to believe that a decade has passed since my 17-year marriage ended. Looking back, I’ve  really needed a solid 10 years to find myself and embrace the gift of independence. Oh sure, I’d love to be madly in love with a wonderful, available man who adores me. But anything less is NOT worth my time. Hey. It feels marvelous to write that.

And. To. Mean. It.

Hence the new quilt. Every snuggle is another hug I’m giving myself. It’s sheer joy to settle between the flannel sheets, pull up the covers and wander through a stack of newspapers, magazines and books. Maybe I’ll always be a bit vulnerable. But no more pretending that I have the perfect family or marriage. No more feeling shaky and raw during the holidays. If you hear someone humming this winter, it’s probably me.