I have been totally neglecting my cross stitching hobby. I purchased a couple of cross stitch magazines at a bookstore within months of moving to Portugal and unfortunately they sat on a shelf untouched. Maybe I am dedicating more time to playing piano and more frequently saying yes to social engagements. Maybe the arrangement of “all things jammed into one congested living room” is a creativity detractor. Whatever the reason, Andrew jolted me out of inactivity when he suggested that I make a cross stitch for our lovely seamstress neighbor who has gifted us with kindness, food, clothing, cat snacks, home decor, and so much more over the course of our 2+ years in Olhão.

I dug out my pristine cross stitch magazines and found the perfect project for her! I worked on it between packing boxes for our move up North and while watching late night Olympic surfing. I modified the pattern a bit since it was originally intended to be a clock, and I had to do a bit of translation into Portuguese since the original phrase was in English.

I always get a bit apprehensive when handing over one of my cross stitches to the recipient. Andrew and I delivered it together. Much to my relief she loved it and promised to display it on her wall. She proceeded to make 3 deliveries of cross stitching and crafting supplies to me throughout the afternoon. Once upon a time she had owned a crafting shop and still had a ton of supplies she wanted to pass on to me. Fortunately I don’t crochet as I suspect there would have been at least 3 more deliveries – true generosity comes naturally to her.

The day we drove away from Olhão with the rental car packed to the gills and the back seat full of 4 pet carriers, our dear neighbor was standing there with tears in her eyes and yet another gift in her hands, this time a box of cat food and a business card with her phone number on it. I distinctly remember a morning back in August 2022 when she was standing on the street with hands on hips warily observing movers heft all of our belongings into our tiny rented house. We also shed tears as we drove away from the funky fishing village that quickly became much more than a temporary stopover on a path to a more permanent home. What a poignant chapter end to our start in a new country, which already seems so long ago.