I recently pushed my limits with social anxieties.

I was proud with how I kept it together at a public event last month. Yeah, I lasted about an hour and a half. 

The event was a mid-week fund raiser for a local agency that provides temporary shelter plus mental health support for the homeless and those caught in the claws of addiction.

Based on the ticket cost, the quality of the tasty treats, wine and dignitaries in attendance, I could soon tell I was in with a different crowd.

According to the suggested starting bids for the items in the silent auction and the live auction, I felt a sense of disparity between the purpose of the event and the money flowing from attendees. I felt disappointment at the waste of food and lack of sustainable measures taken for composting and recycling.

I was certainly in with a different crowd.

The one thing that kept me staying longer than I wanted was to see if anyone else would outbid me on a quilt in the silent auction. I lingered beside the table, nursing my wine while wincing at the loud music from the speakers and the over-excited voice of the live auctioneer. I had my fill of food and wine. I had my fill of social interactions.

The quilt appealed to me because my paternal grandmother used to make them – back in the day when they used scrap material and there was symbolism, cultural meaning in the patterns.

The quilt appealed to me because of the comforting feeling it can represent, a feeling like a loving home, like a soft blanket wrapped around you, holding you tight and assuring that everything is going to be alright.

It also appealed to me because it was one of the less-expensive items on the table. 

I approached the people at the registration desk and explained my need to leave. They assured me it was okay and that they would call my cell number later if I had the winning bid.

And they did.

I was soon the proud owner of a locally crafted quilt. I like how it adds to the colour and comfort of my quiet, humble home. 

Miss Geneva Tabby checks out the new quilt on her futon

I have a home. For that I am grateful.

Thank you for stopping by.