The gift of friends

I’ve been part of an online writing group for 5 years. They are a wonderful, warm, generous group of people, and over the years we’ve become very close. We’ve shared all the ups and downs of writing, and all the ups and downs of life. We’ve seen kids airlifted to hospital, struggled with our own illnesses and those of families and friends, grieved for those we’ve lost (including two of our own), celebrated the arrival of four babies, and partied when each member gets published. Through all of it, the support of the group for each other has been amazing and powerful. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t met some of these people face-to-face; I know them, and they are my dear friends.

Yesterday, my DH brought home from the post office a large box. When I opened it, I found:

My eyes got very leaky as I unpacked it:

Rather than sending a bouquet of flowers, my friends sent a bouquet of yarn. Joanna, one of my friends, lives not far from La Knitterie Parisienne, in Studio City, LA (where all the Hollywood knitters pop in to buy their yarn), and so she took the collected contributions from the group and went yarn shopping. (You can read her account of it here.) With the enthusiastic guidance from Edith and Merrill at the shop, she put together the most wonderful gift of beautiful, luxury yarns:

But wait! There’s more:

The book is part of my friends’ gift; the bag was generously given by Edith and Merrill to add to the gift.

A huge thank you to all my friends; also to Edith and Merrill at La Knitterie Parisienne; and especially to Joanna, for all the time and thought and love in organising, packaging (with notes about each yarn, and Edith’s suggestions for it) and sending it.

I’ve been fondling yarn last night and this morning, and I dreamed of yarn I’m hoping to start a project today, so that I’ll have my friends’ yarn beside me – and the knowledge of their love and support – all the time until I go to hospital, and while I recover.

For those who want to see each yarn, there’s more below the fold: