sunday whimperings
Dublin Bay and New Dawn make a beautiful arrangement - cut from my own garden. The roses are prolific this season.
The peas, which went in very late, are struggling to catch up.
When my father was alive I would always take the first head of lettuce to him on Fathers Day. I wonder when it will get easier - all of the attention paid to Fathers Day brings the sting of his passing home.
I've been knitting and quilting. I have two very special commissioned pieces to complete so I will have to turn my attention away from these projects for a while -
'It's Five O'clock Somewhere' is almost finished.
Can't remember when I've enjoyed a piece so much!
I've made three blocks for my Farmer's Wife' quilt - little six inch squares ...
I woke to the sound of a chainsaw yesterday morning AT. SIX. THIRTY. AM.! I was so disturbed and it became progressively MORE disturbing as the chainsaw was joined by a wood chipper! My neighbor, who is retired (and could certainly have this work done on a weekday when good people are at work and not trying to sleep) was having his cherry and apple trees removed. What does this mean? That my hosta bed is now in full sun. I'm kind of beside myself. Some of my collection are over ten years old and huge. Full sun will be a death sentence for them.
I think that I'll go sew for awhile!
2 comments:
I know what you mean about Father's Day. We went out this weekend to buy cards, and it suddenly hit us that this year we only had one card to buy (FIL passed away in December). It made me realize how lucky I am to still have both of my parents. I came home and immediately called my sisters to invite them to a Father's Day BBQ at my home.
I am so glad you are having really enjoying making your quilt. I love when I enjoy a project from start to finish. I hope we get to see the finished project soon!
With Father's Day upon us, I thought of you, found your blog in my list and came over to give you a virtual hug. I can feel the dichotomy and the polarities still causing you so much pain and I am so sorry. I am so sorry this horrible disease turned him into someone else, that you lost that, him, your childhood home and a piece of who you thought you were. You are a work in progress, you are made of beauty, you are full of the strength, the densities, and the color vibrations of all that you create. So, yes, the gray is an indication of the deep sadness in you, the yellow of your high intelligence and the need to connect with the energies of your core self, and project that imagine into the world from your center.
My father passed in 2010 with dementia but my mother lives on..blind, bedridden, diabetic, and paralyzed and we still care for her by ourselves in our island family home in Alaska.
It is a kind of awful others cannot imagine, but she is still in there. She can smile, laugh, and talk to us. Don't know if she know who 'us' is..but that's ok with us. She is not herself, any more, but neither are we ;)
Hugs, hugs, hugs. Know that I will be thinking of you and sending colorful energies tomorrow!!
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