
When furlough came knocking for a whole year, suddenly the clock slowed down, and the busy buzz of life gave way to quiet moments—moments many of us never knew we’d have. I was one of the lucky ones with time to dream.
For years, I’d nursed a secret wish to try my hand at stained glass—those shimmering petals and glowing colors—but life was always dancing around me: rehearsals with the orchestra, evenings volunteering with the Am Dram troupe, and the endless swirl of work. Then, overnight, the world went still, and time stretched out like a soft, blank canvas. Honestly? It was a little scary.
I tried filling those quiet hours with long, wandering walks and finally diving into the towering pile of books that had patiently waited for me. I even gave the house a proper spring clean (or two). But still, pockets of time shimmered in the silence, whispering for something new.
So, I listened. I transformed the little box room—the one that held forgotten dreams—into a tiny glass garden, a workshop where light and color could play. And just like that, the adventure began.