Missed you all. Sorry about that, but thanks Susan, for checking me! I had to go over to my mom's house and rifle through collect things for my yard sale. That's right - a YARD SALE. WHAT WAS I THINKING??? I was all into making it a pretty event with fresh flowers and produce and quilts and yarn, etc. And things were going well. It wasn't that I forgot about you all, it was more like there weren't enough hours in the day! My son came over and hung out with me and that was special. He'd just come off night shift and was wound, so he talked to my 'customers' and played with Harley and just entertained the hell out of his grateful mother. ANY time that I get with him is precious. And rare.
I'm warning you ahead of time - THIS will be one of those 2-kleenex posts. It takes an enormous amount of effort to put together a yard sale. I had NO idea. (WHAT WAS I THINKING?)
Scott helped me put the tent up and bring out some tables before dashing off to meet his T time. He even rolled a small refrigerator out to the tent and stocked it with water - just in case I got thirsty! (right hand corner) A good man - lest I forget to mention it!)
Do you see that snowblower? FIRST item to go! Andrew pulled out our ramps and loaded it into the customer's van, and everyone was happy, happy.
Can you see the glass horses? I grew up seeing this pair on the mantle - they were always just THERE. They aren't valuable, or at least I don't think in any significant way. But people were pawing them and going nuts! They were a wedding gift to my folks in 1947, and I just assumed that they were pressed glass, nothing more. Anyway, as they left with their happy new owners, I felt a pang of SOMETHING. I can't tell you what it was. This feeling continued and intensified.
My dad's waders and a few of the many fly and regular poles. People - HOTCAKES. They literally FLEW out of the tent. The lures - OMG. And the reels? Who knew? The dreadful sensation in my stomach grew as his 'stuff' left in droves. (nobody was interested in my dried home-grown gourds!) I felt like a traitor - like a bad daughter. How could I allow my father's precious fishing gear to go to absolute paying strangers?
The ice-fishing gear was no exception. I thought that there might be a fist-fight for ownership. I started thinking about my poor old dad - lying up there in that nursing home - so far away from his beloved streams and lakes. I was beginning to fall apart.
I started leafing through some books. I had not sold a single book - hard or paperback. This amazed me, being the lover of books that I am. (What the hell? Don't my neighbors READ!) Anyway, a small card dropped out from between the pages of an old volume. And suddenly, all of the angst and sadness and confusion that I'd been experiencing slipped away. I remembered a lesson learned and forgotten - a long, long time ago ... "There are no coincidences". Here is the reason that I held a yard sale - known before I knew -
You were 7 years old when you wrote this to me. I'd stuck it between the pages of a valued gardening book. I love you too, more than you will ever know. You are my heart.
love,
mom
We have a winner. Harley got to choose. I made little slips of paper with your names on them, threw them into the air and instructed Harley to GET 'EM!!!! The first name off his big silly tongue was SusanBknits. Congrats, Susan! You will need to send me your snail-mail address so that I can put this cherry treat in the post! To everyone else, thank you so very much for taking the time to stop in and leave a comment. Your thoughts mean the world to me. I really enjoyed reading about why blogging is important to you. I love that we all come to this creative venue from different places, but the bottom line is that we ALL derive a great deal of profound satisfaction from sharing our thoughts, our writings, our worlds. Thank you.
Whoever created and produced the TV show 'Hoarders' is to be commended. One or two episodes have changed my way of thinking and quite possibly my life style - my life-long addiction to collecting and gathering. Observing the sad and pathological storing of stuff, as seen through the eyes of the afflicted, the helpers, the counselors, the clean-out crew, etc. has really impacted me! Earlier in the week I started cleaning, sorting and TOSSING out! I was appalled at some of the things that I discovered - such as a tower for a computer that hasn't worked in approximately 10 years! And this - OMG. I thought that I might like to learn how to hook a rug. Okie-dokey!
This bag contains three pewter pieces - a tea set. I am sure that it might interest one who collects pewter. (clears throat) I do NOT collect pewter, and yet - here it is, proof positive that I am unable to say no.
In my defense, it needs to be said that some of this comes from my mother who is actively cleaning and clearing out. She always seems so chest-fallen, so dejected, when I say no to things (like the PEWTER!). Easier to say yes and throw it in the back of the SUV. Anyway, I am having my first yard sale. So if you are in the vicinity of the Hudson River Valley, Ulster or Dutchess county areas, c'mon over. EVERYTHING is up for grabs! And I mean everything from books to fabric to foot massagers to empty tins! Cheep, cheep because you are doing ME a favor! Please, take it away!!!!
The lemon grass looks pretty good, despite the ridiculous weather we have been 'enjoying'. I realize that everyone is complaining about this crapola summer, so let me throw my hat into the ring with the rest. Where did those lovely summer days disappear to? You know the kind that I'm talking about - a cool crisp start, a little dew under foot - the gradual rise of temperature, accompanied by a good breeze - big fluffy clouds skirting across an indigo sky - the total absence of humidity. These are the days that I remember. We're probably to blame, what, with our big fat wasteful footprints - no doubt we have melted essential glaciers and sent Mother Nature scurrying for a pass to Mars. I don't know. I do not know what is to become of us.
Thank God for knitting and quilting - at least we have something to do with our hands while we wait for Whatever Is Next!!!!
Someone dropped a pumpkin seed in the herb garden. Was it one of those chipmunk rascals that keep digging an underground condo in these beds? Could it have been a bird with a poorly digestive track? Maybe a seed packet opened in my pocket and dropped to the ground? I'll never know. My best guess is that this will be either cinderella or luna variety. Time will tell! Also, it will take some massive restraint on my part to leave that rambling vine alone! Once it crosses the walkway, all bets are off! I like a clear walkway and I spend a lot of my time 'training' the thyme to stay in its bed instead of crossing over to visit the oregano. I find that I need to let go, and let Mother Nature. I am learning the lessons I needed to know. I am being led - again.
Yesterday, when my mother and I were leaving the nursing home, 'Elizabeth' was purposely shuffling into my father's room with the help of her big plastic walker. Mom greeted her, offered her a candy bar, and continued to leave the room. I was a bit confused because, well, I've learned EVERYTHING that I know about Control from mom, and it surprised me that she didn't have something to say, or do, about Elizabeth's visit. In the lobby I quizzed her and her response surprised me. She informed me that she has learned to view every day as a gift now, and that whatever occurs is meant to be. So, when I looked back over my shoulder to see Elizabeth sitting with my father, I realized that THIS was not something anyone would deem unusual at the nursing home, or in my mother's mind. What WAS unusual was my reaction to the scene unfolding in front of me. I was unable to allow the thyme to cross over to visit with the oregano!
Alzheimer's Disease will break your heart. There's no other way to say it. It is a grand scale thief that carries off what is human and real and essential to each of us. It is relentless - it chips away until there is nothing left - no flicker of recognition, no genuine smile, no response. I peer into my father's face, searching for some sign that he is awake and aware and that he hears me stumbling over my words, trying so desperately to say what I think he needs to hear. Something that will stir a memory - a response. I thank God that he is not in physical pain, but then I wonder - HOW would he let us know if this were the case? The nurses pacify me - they pat me back into place with gentle, but firm resolve. IF there was pain, they assure me, they would know.
I come home and start working on another apron - this one for Hilary to take to a bridal shower that is being orchestrated for her stepsister. I am glad for the busy work - a day that has real purpose and time restraints. Left to my own, I am afraid that I would sit in my melancholy state - accomplishing nothing, taking in nothing. I AM LEARNING WHAT I NEEDED TO KNOW: each day is a supreme gift. I need to be grateful for each day.
Today is The Daily Fiber's first birthday celebration. One year ago, on a rainy Sunday morning, I sat down in front of my computer and taught myself to blog. I was an infant blogger then; today I feel like a toddler! And it's all good.
Birthday cupcake, courtesy of cousin Lori. Sometimes she calls me and sings the 'Cuppy Cake' song to me. This always brings a smile. Where would we be without humor and family and love songs? And friends. I have made blogging friends throughout this year - connections that I truly treasure. There have been days when your comments and the sharing of your lives have lifted me and held me in place. I am so grateful! I have a treat ...
It's a cherry apron that I made and it's fully lined and ready to go! Doesn't Hilary look cute in it? You could get all retro and throw on a red or black bra under it to meet the Mister at the door! Turn the oven off first! Another view - Dog-Approved! I think that this would make a wonderful hostess gift, if you could stand to give it away.
Here's the skinny - you'll need to write to me and leave a comment. If you have a blog, I'd like to hear what you find most valuable about your blogging. And if you don't, I'd like to hear what it is in particular that you enjoy about this blog. I've never done this before, but I suspect that there needs to be a time frame. I'd like to hear from you all by Friday, August 13. Uh oh, Friday the 13th! Maybe I'll have to pump it up and add a spooky prize as well!
Meanwhile - thank you. Thank you for following me and leaving your wonderful comments and including me on your journeys. You've taught me a lot about myself and I've loved learning about you.
The Cape-Codders returned home, tanned and peaceful. We were all very happy to see them, some more than others-
He is always at the ready - prepared to offer the gift of a toy. Every Golden I've ever lived with displays this sweetly generous characteristic - the necessity of having something in the mouth when the People arrive - something, ANYTHING, to offer! I've been poked with yarn skeins, dirty socks, oh, you just don't want to know! Anyway, Andrew and Merilee came, offering gifts of their own. There is a wonderful bookstore in Chatham called 'Where the Sidewalk Ends' and I always try to stop in each season. This year they went instead and brought back two treasures for me!
This one will get a lot of play. I need to find ways to pump up the taste with gluten-free cooking. First glance tells a beautifully photographed story. And this - one that I have been wanting very much!
There were shells and several precious perfectly intact sand dollars. It pleases me beyond expression that Andrew took the time to search for these treasures for me. It makes the not-going to the cape this year bearable.
I can't hang around this morning because TOMORROW is the first anniversary of The Daily Fiber!!!! Who knew that this form of writing and journaling would become such an important part of my creative life. Can't hang around - I have to bake a cake and think of something fabulous to prize you with! Hint: it will be fiber-y.
Your daily GREEN ...
As we continue to honor the 'green' wave this August, (a discipline which just might end up saving our collective arses along with our planet) it occurs to me - I am doing my part by reusing my beloved OLD patterns! This is a stretch, but bear with me, because you never know - less printed patterns might = more trees. I have some nearly-vintage patterns that I use year after year because, well, I love them. Love the fit, love the design, love the wear . . . love everything about trees.
I cannot tell you how many times I've used this pattern - let's just say that I've gotten my money's worth! I've created it in panne velvet, in pima cotton, in dupioni silk, in Italian viyella and this morning, in featherweight linen.
It never looks like much at this stage, but isn't it always heartening when you manage to get the garment on a hanger? This linen is very light and delicate. Moreover, it refuses to go where I want - it's willful and I have to baste the beJesus out of it! Do you remember Fairy Loops?
Forgive this dreadful photography - the loop is actually tiny and quite nicely done. When I was in junior high school the big fad was to run up behind your favorite boys and rip the fairy loops off of their shirts. Dear God in heaven, what were we thinking? What WERE we thinking? Hmmm ... 13 or 14 years old ... we were NOT thinking about ruined shirts, were we?
Something came in the mail ... a sight-unseen Kaffe cotton - oooh-la-LA! This is Wanda's fault - she keeps showcasing all of her incredible quilts using this designer's line ... what is a girl to do? P.U.R.C.H.A.S.E.
Can I just say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE Amazon? Who knew that one could find fabric on their site? Just wait until Scott sees his current VISA account ... there's going to be trouble. It could be worse. I could be addicted to Elsa Peretti's diamonds-by-the-yard or Juicy Coutere's latest leather luxury. But no -
I am a simple woman. My legendary days at the Chanel counter are over. I no longer hunger for a free pass at Bulgari or a table at Per Se (or La Grenouille). Nope, these days you'll find me hunched over my sewing or my knitting or perhaps out in the gardens pulling weeds. There isn't a salon in the world that could rectify what a season among vegetables has done to my nails. It doesn't matter what my nails look like. What matters to you? A cottage near the ocean? World Peace? Your family? A cure for cancer? Winning the Writers Guild Award? Talk to me ...
My good neighbor Andy and his wife Pat left for Maine last evening. They missed a tremendous thunderstorm which woke this household at three in the morning. It was a spectacular light and sound show, but it did little to alleviate the oppressive heat and humidity which was back with a vengeance at daybreak. I thought to myself - I should be a good neighbor, I should go check on Andy's blackberries. I'm sure that the ONLY reason he was able to leave town with clear conscience is because he KNEW that I would look after his crop.
Some flour and sugar, a few pats of butter, fresh lemon juice ...
If only there was a way to offer a scratch-and-sniff feature on this blog! It smells better than the Italian bakery on Sunday morning. After Mass.
My Italian sunflowers fell over in the storm. I also lost one of the tomato plants that my sister gave to me, but will you LOOK at that big marmaluke tomato!!!! (marmaluke is a Carson expression - it makes me laugh whenever he says it - always so enthusiastically!!! Always reserved for something inordinately HUGE!) That marmaluke barely fits in the palm of my hand. I have marmaluke paws.
Do you remember the movie 'Michael' which starred John Travolta, Jean Stapleton, William Hurt and Andy whats-her-name? There is a scene where the actors are ordering and eating and singing about pie. "Pie is pretty", Andy chirps. And she's right - the only thing that makes it prettier is the scoop of haagen-dazs vanilla to one side!
I am to Frogging/Greening-of-the-fiber what Debbie Meyer is to bags:
That's right - her bags keep my produce fresh so that I can use it when I need it. The yarn in my house NEVER goes to waste either - it is always reused and at the ready when I am. I purchased a swift early on in my knitting life, intuition informing me that there would be many, many frogged projects. Do you remember this yarn?
It started life as my 2010 Ravelry Olympic project - a 'February Lady' for a friend. By the time I hit the last buttonhole, the crystal clear truth was staring me in the eye - the sizing was WAY wrong for my friend!!!! Out came the swift! Now, this nice blueberry Cascade 220 is being reinvented - returning as a Mara shawl, that juicy Amy Hendrix perennial. Love it. No worries - cocktail television knitting!
Bad seeds never turn into good ones. But they CAN learn how to knit!
Did I mention that Scott returned from the bahamas three days ahead of schedule? Yes - I had a call late Saturday night asking if I could please slide the lock. I was wondering why the dogs had gone postal in my dream - I struggled to stay with it, but that infernal phone kept ringing and the dogs kept baying! Lo and behold - I was not dreaming at all - someone was shaking the door. Himself came home. Early.
It seems that there is a celebration throughout the British caribbean and it is called Emancipation Day. Officially, it began on Monday, but the natives started partying last Thursday!! Scott was faced with a week of partying (and no work) or a flight home. I think that he made a wise choice this time. We are all very happy to have him back with us. He is doing what he loves - it involves the lawn! And, of course, his Best Friend.
Here's some green -
Image taken earlier this spring - cabbages now mature and being gifted to the neighbors. I love to look at a row of cabbages - such green perfection! Forgive me for the cabbage repetition!
My agapanthus - "nana" - stubbornly refusing to bloom. I swore off fertilizing this year in an attempt to "go green" with the garden. I have never used pesticides or herbicides, but I was guilty of possessing and using some MiracleGro on the potted plants. WHATEVER!
My mother has requested a new sweater vest. She is specific - she knows what she likes and her most important choice is that of the fiber, it must be cotton. (sigh) I've been longing to try Blue Moon fiber - but alas, they do not offer a cotton. Would it be wrong to try to pull the wool bamboo over her 81 year old eyes? Should I just go ahead and order some of their delicious yarns and set to knittin'???? In my heart I KNOW that the fiber will be indescribably soft and comforting. But I would feel ugly and unlovable in deceiving me old mom. I'm a bad seed. She and I are engaged in a battle these days. It goes like this -
"Mom, you don't HAVE to go to the Nursing Home every other day. If you don't feel well and the place further depresses you, just stay home. He doesn't know you're there half the time, anyway." She protests this and whines a bit and I begin to pale and sweat. "Mom, he calls out for you because he remembers your name. When he sees you, he doesn't recognize you." She offers up her excuses. I'm experiencing multiple hot flashes. "Mom. Mom. Do you want me to remind you what a terrible husband and father he was? You're doing more than anyone else ever would. Mom, what do you think about Bob?"
You see, Bob is the husband of Lillian, another patient at the Nursing Home. Bob comes every day and he feeds his wife and takes her out to the garden and when he strokes her hand and speaks so lovingly to her, I have to turn away, it seems wrong to eavesdrop on this tenderness. Lillian does not respond to her husband any longer. She is frozen into place now, without speech or recognition. The other day I walked into the Nursing Home to find Bob and my mother sitting together in the sun room. There was conversation and a little laughter. I was astonished and thrilled. Bob! He is just what the doctor ordered! Me old mom needs a friend. Now how do I convince her that there is nothing wrong in accepting the gift of friendship - the gift of survival - the outlasting of the plaque of Alzheimer's? I am not suggesting that they run off to Monte Carlo (although, that would be absolutely fine by me) I'm talking a cup of coffee at Starbucks, for Chrissake. My mother picks at some invisible lint on the front of her smart linen shirt. She reminds me that I am her lifeline. The image of coffee and Bob is shrinking and I feel a seizure coming on.
Oh - and here's some green for you -
The children have returned from their extended weekend to the Cape. I am certain that Bubbha will be very happy to return to his routine. I know that I am. Still, I'll miss seeing his funny old face first thing in the morning -
Posting every day for a month - with a theme of GREEN. . .
Pesto time - delicious now and in the deep of January when I go searching for the last few frozen cubes. Nothing pumps up a vegetable lasagna like homemade pesto. Smeared over good bread and topped with tomato slices - who needs mayo?
I decided to go ahead with the discipline of posting each day for one month. The idea came from JelliDonut who has a really engaging blog. Her humor is unsinkable! Good stuff, good reading.
This NaBloPoMo stuff is real. I have been trying to recognize and protect my "inner artist" and a daily ritual can be a spring board into the deeper water.
I want to feel completely comfortable calling myself an artist.
