It has been a very bad, not so terrile, muddled, slow start week.
I have been trying to get out and walk. My body is in such poor shape, from fat, from falling and hurting my legs and ankles and not able to get around very well. So, I figured, walk 4 blocks to start. I actually felt better and less pain in my ankles. The next day I walked 6 blocks. Better yet, just alittle breathless, and the next day 7 blocks.
Then two days of running around, cooking etc. chores, laundry and not much else. I don't have the what it takes to sew. But my daughter took me to the new quilt store in Winthrop, "The Three Bears" and I couldn't resist buying some red and white stripe vintage fabric, and some dark blue with tiny stars. I have an idea, but it has to cook for a while in the dark recesses of my mind before it can bloom.
But too busy to walk? I had a friend that is having a rough patch. Shes trying to behave herself but some signs of imminent stroke. Today I went to stay with her for a few hours, just so she is not alone and will not try to do something ambitious. She can't hardly set still and rest.
I on the otherhand have been feeling some crumbling in my armour. Wednesday night in church for some reason I started thinking of my paternal grandparents and realized, its possible that I don't have a picture of them. I don't know for sure, because I have not been able to check out my external hard backup yet. But it is possible. And my brother had given me his pictures to copy and then send back. Guess what--- ashes to ashes.
There are little bits of grit falling inside. I can feel it. Knowing me I will crash and sob when I have the biggest audience because, the humiliation of it all will try and do me in.
I just do not want to mess with the drama, trauma,headache, heartache and everything else that will bubble up and come out. What is the point anyway? Why waste the time. But the memory is starting to surface of things that are no more.
So- I have replaced a book that I have lost and Hopefully, plan on adding 15 minutes of exercise a day to this - can we even call it, a walking program at this stage. And I bought a god pair of walking shoes that will do me in all kinds of weather. Started breaking them in to day.
The house is rising. The I-joists are mostly up on the second floor. When you step inside the doorway, the house sort of wraps its self around me and there is this good cozy feeling, just standing in it. Do I dare hope that it will actually happen.
There is a stack of garden books by the bed. Hubby says don't plan on planting pine trees again behind the house. Oh how I love Poderosas. Surely we can find a place for them somewhere. So I planned a planting of old Homestead roses along the upper drive. He says they build up dry brushy branches fast and furious and are very hard to prune. Hummm. Problems on every hand. But don't get in a stir about it. There is so terribly much to do before I can even "think" of actual work on that stuff.
The upper veggie gardens? What do I dare do. Can I get some fencing up? Yes, will have too. The dogs have been in there and I don't need their gifts left to contaminate my food. I need to think of just what is the best and first thing to do.??
Guess, as usual. I will try and sleep on it. Tomorrow, may bloom brighter.
Friday, September 26, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Quilt Show Friday
My daughter called and asked if I wanted to go to the quilt show this last Friday. Have I ever turned down an invite to a Quilt Show? Well, at least one more.
My husband and I had made it down to the Moses Lake Quilt show earlier in the year and it was a really fun one for me. They had a nice display of older quilts that for some reason really appealed to me, with their sharp colors contrasts and old quilt patterns. I just kept going back and looking at those old quilts again and again. Perhaps thats why after the fire took us out, and I started feeling the need for fabric between my fingers or under my rotary blade, that I started looking at fabrics that could almost pass for old. The difference of course is the slightly different design with color approach. But that is what I sought when I went to buy some Therapy Fabric after the fire.
But Life has been busy, and mind bending. I had turned down a trip to the Buggy Barn Show. Two things, I had fell and hurt my legs and ankles, and I just don't feel justified in purchasing fabric right now--- except for what I got with my gift certificate and then just a little more to round out this project that I have started. But I have also felt somewhat disconnected with life, somewhat drifting and not very focused, so this sounded like a good thing to do at this time.
It was a good show. Lots of quilts, the guest quilter did applique and it was so very good, and there were the usual quilts, the well, just quilts and some very interesting modern quilting design quilts. How can I do that, veer back and forth from the old to the very modern? But that was where my interest was this time. What do they have in common? What attracts me right now and why? Simplicity? Colors? Less clutter? What is it? I can't find it, what I am seeing that attracts. Maybe it is not what they have in common, but what each offers that is interesting.
While visiting with a friend today, she was talking about the lack of interesting quilts at the county fair this year. One winner, she just couln't get into this quilt at all, and I found that one the most interesting of the display. She thought that it was so full of unrelated fabric and too many fabrics with pictures of things in it, and I can see that and understand that. But she felt it was just a meshmash of mixed color and no real pattern, and I thought the path the colors took you down was what was interesting. And I must admit. There wasn't much else to catch my interest at that display either. Quilters! Arise and show your work! Intrigue other quilters into doing more. We do stimulate each other and that is good.
But there were a few quilts at this show I went back and looked at a few times, trying to decide what attracted me, what pulled me back, what I was seeing. I had no trouble with wanting to duplicate them and as I told my husband, there is something sad at looking at so much display and your minds eye kept calling to mind your own unfinished but loved work that the firestorm took out. I try not to dwell on that stuff. But the more you see, the more you remember.
But,perhaps I liked the very modern look this time because, I am working on a "sort of" oldish design, and what I lost was folky, brights and sharp,my own designs or a series of drunkard paths, and I didn't have to compare so different with so modern? Your mind will play tricks with you, so it doesn't have to hurt anymore.
I didn't purchase a single piece of fabric at the show. That was surely not me. But I didn't. I want to keep on with this Therapy project and finish it and not get side tracked with multi ideas. I do think working with multi ideas at the same time is a good thing. You can switch modes and jump start some good design activity with a fresh approach on a fresh day. Its just that -- now is not the time to invest in fabric, not for me. I am trying to focus on the important things of life, and not just be a loose marble, rolling from item to item, out of control. I am probably afraid of losing control and spiriling somewhere where I don't want to go.
One thing that I couldn't resist though was, the Quilting Boutique Booth that had boxes and boxes and boxes of old quilt books, all kinds, all assorted publishers, along with magazines for sale---CHEAP. With my library in ashes, this I couldn't and didn't resist. What bargins.
I haven't looked at any of them yet since I brought them home. I am saving them for that lazy, cozy, day of sheer relaxing.
What I did do though was sew up four more of my project quilt blocks. They do not look old. They have a certain old feel, but they are too sharp and colorful to be old. There is too much different directions in the fabric designs to attain a certain blahness that most old quilts have. But it was an enjoyable day, and maybe the best part of the day was to feel the machine sing beneath my fingers when I came home and pieced a few more blocks.
My husband and I had made it down to the Moses Lake Quilt show earlier in the year and it was a really fun one for me. They had a nice display of older quilts that for some reason really appealed to me, with their sharp colors contrasts and old quilt patterns. I just kept going back and looking at those old quilts again and again. Perhaps thats why after the fire took us out, and I started feeling the need for fabric between my fingers or under my rotary blade, that I started looking at fabrics that could almost pass for old. The difference of course is the slightly different design with color approach. But that is what I sought when I went to buy some Therapy Fabric after the fire.
But Life has been busy, and mind bending. I had turned down a trip to the Buggy Barn Show. Two things, I had fell and hurt my legs and ankles, and I just don't feel justified in purchasing fabric right now--- except for what I got with my gift certificate and then just a little more to round out this project that I have started. But I have also felt somewhat disconnected with life, somewhat drifting and not very focused, so this sounded like a good thing to do at this time.
It was a good show. Lots of quilts, the guest quilter did applique and it was so very good, and there were the usual quilts, the well, just quilts and some very interesting modern quilting design quilts. How can I do that, veer back and forth from the old to the very modern? But that was where my interest was this time. What do they have in common? What attracts me right now and why? Simplicity? Colors? Less clutter? What is it? I can't find it, what I am seeing that attracts. Maybe it is not what they have in common, but what each offers that is interesting.
While visiting with a friend today, she was talking about the lack of interesting quilts at the county fair this year. One winner, she just couln't get into this quilt at all, and I found that one the most interesting of the display. She thought that it was so full of unrelated fabric and too many fabrics with pictures of things in it, and I can see that and understand that. But she felt it was just a meshmash of mixed color and no real pattern, and I thought the path the colors took you down was what was interesting. And I must admit. There wasn't much else to catch my interest at that display either. Quilters! Arise and show your work! Intrigue other quilters into doing more. We do stimulate each other and that is good.
But there were a few quilts at this show I went back and looked at a few times, trying to decide what attracted me, what pulled me back, what I was seeing. I had no trouble with wanting to duplicate them and as I told my husband, there is something sad at looking at so much display and your minds eye kept calling to mind your own unfinished but loved work that the firestorm took out. I try not to dwell on that stuff. But the more you see, the more you remember.
But,perhaps I liked the very modern look this time because, I am working on a "sort of" oldish design, and what I lost was folky, brights and sharp,my own designs or a series of drunkard paths, and I didn't have to compare so different with so modern? Your mind will play tricks with you, so it doesn't have to hurt anymore.
I didn't purchase a single piece of fabric at the show. That was surely not me. But I didn't. I want to keep on with this Therapy project and finish it and not get side tracked with multi ideas. I do think working with multi ideas at the same time is a good thing. You can switch modes and jump start some good design activity with a fresh approach on a fresh day. Its just that -- now is not the time to invest in fabric, not for me. I am trying to focus on the important things of life, and not just be a loose marble, rolling from item to item, out of control. I am probably afraid of losing control and spiriling somewhere where I don't want to go.
One thing that I couldn't resist though was, the Quilting Boutique Booth that had boxes and boxes and boxes of old quilt books, all kinds, all assorted publishers, along with magazines for sale---CHEAP. With my library in ashes, this I couldn't and didn't resist. What bargins.
I haven't looked at any of them yet since I brought them home. I am saving them for that lazy, cozy, day of sheer relaxing.
What I did do though was sew up four more of my project quilt blocks. They do not look old. They have a certain old feel, but they are too sharp and colorful to be old. There is too much different directions in the fabric designs to attain a certain blahness that most old quilts have. But it was an enjoyable day, and maybe the best part of the day was to feel the machine sing beneath my fingers when I came home and pieced a few more blocks.
Monday, September 8, 2014
Our firestorm changed me, I thought
I was a confident perfectly happy adult meandering through my occupational hazardous day. There were so many things I wanted to do, meant to do, hoped to do, and planned to do, that it was just a matter of choosing what would occupy my time at the moment.
Kids were out of the house, money of my own to spend with no guilt in what ever way I wanted to spend it and enough interests, that there were plenty of choices. I like to be alone, I crave to be alone but I confess, I was discovering that aloneness wasn't quite what I had thought it was when there were so many to do for, for so long.
My empty nest was full of genealogy work and fabric piled, folded, organized, and just crammed all around me to create with. I had reached the point where patterns were secondary at best, I felt able to start putting fabric on the board and seeing where it took me. Oh, yes, early stages of that, but fun, interesting and variable.
Our little firestorm changed that. I "said" I wasn't going to sew. My friend and right arm, Betsy the 830 Bernina that had traveled the road with me so many years had given up and had to be replaced with a Phaff, anniversary expression model. It had taken some months of getting used to her and we were just starting to move with comfort and amity when now she too was gone. No name yet and now no future. Thousands and thousands of fabriholic collection fabric gone up in smoke, a few barely bought and hadn't even been near a design wall, and most of it unremembered shards of creative impulse, smoked to nonexistance.
But it was a void world out there. I had a few Buckeye chickens left to look at that had somehow survived the smoke as the spit and crackling fire moved through their world and left only 1/3 of them behind, homeless and shaken. But it was less than a week later that I found myself wanting a sewing machine beneath my hands and when I ran across a gift certificate from a daughter in my purse given me for my 68th birthday, well, I couldn't waste that.
I had decided to see if my daughter (in-law) would loan me her sewing machine, and then I talked to a sewing friend about it. The next thing I knew, I was going out of her house with a New Home machine, and a load of tools and necessities, and some not so necessary stuff bundled into the trunk of Bessie, my little red 4 runner.
When my husband saw the machine, he demanded that I hem three new pair of jeans for him. That took a long time. Is there anything more frustrating, exasperating and sewtime killing then hemming jeans for someone?
In the meantime, I pulled out three borrowed quilt books and started planning a mindless, meandering quilt project. Something simple, and just casual sewing was what was needed. Oh, "The Road Home Block", that looks and sounds perfect.
Somewhere along the way, the Road Home was needing more variety so it is being enlarged to contain other blocks that fit into a square in a square pattern. There are pages of notes of how many blocks of what, and color planning of the triangles that will fit it together into a cohesive eclectic collection. How did that happen? Where does the mind come up with this stuff? When did it just take off and start running on its on? This is crazy! Who is in charge here?
My little 2 x 3' space allotted to my "sewing" is creeping, oozing out from its designated tiny corner of this single wide trailer we are renting. I think a monster is growing over in that corner of the kitchen that will just take over if I am not careful!
Meanwhile up on the hill, a block away, our "Home' has been cleared away. Trees have been chopped down and brush hauled away, rubble removed and ashes dug and carried out.
On our dining table, there is a drawing in progress of "the house" to be and on the hill, there is a foundation poured and stem wall forms ready to be poured tomorrow.
I have always designed houses, and wanted to build "my own". That won't happen. This house is not a creation that I 'wanted' to design, no architectural masterpiece from my free spirit, but instead an extension of need. No, I didn't want a prebuilt home. No, I didn't want anyone else to design it. But it had to be done and done quickly. One of my children said its different than our Home, but kind of laid out in much the same pattern.
The first thing I discovered is we can't live in a small tiny bit of space. What are you to do? Your kids can sleep elsewhere when they come home, but you need space to eat and drink in,and thats the real heart of home. So- well, its going to be interesting. I hope it gets built. I hope the funds arrive when necessary. I hope, it goes well. It looks sure and steady on the lot, and bigger than our old house. It isn't is it? Bigger I mean?
We worked out a two bedroom house with an office for Dear Husband, a bedroom, studio and laundry for my daughter in her own upstairs suite. ( interestingly enough, she didn't want her own kitchen??)
And I get what dear husband calls "mom's great room" a combination of mud room for barn chores and gardening, laundry room for maintenance and a space for computer, designwall and sewing machine and a LITTLE fabric. Since there was space under the roof structure for it, we threw in two guest bedrooms. My mind is already venturing into the future yard, trying to decide on trees and shrubs, bird shelter and so on.
I guess there is still life in the minds eye anyway.
So am I changed? Or just alittle bruised and rising from the ashes of the storm?
Kids were out of the house, money of my own to spend with no guilt in what ever way I wanted to spend it and enough interests, that there were plenty of choices. I like to be alone, I crave to be alone but I confess, I was discovering that aloneness wasn't quite what I had thought it was when there were so many to do for, for so long.
My empty nest was full of genealogy work and fabric piled, folded, organized, and just crammed all around me to create with. I had reached the point where patterns were secondary at best, I felt able to start putting fabric on the board and seeing where it took me. Oh, yes, early stages of that, but fun, interesting and variable.
Our little firestorm changed that. I "said" I wasn't going to sew. My friend and right arm, Betsy the 830 Bernina that had traveled the road with me so many years had given up and had to be replaced with a Phaff, anniversary expression model. It had taken some months of getting used to her and we were just starting to move with comfort and amity when now she too was gone. No name yet and now no future. Thousands and thousands of fabriholic collection fabric gone up in smoke, a few barely bought and hadn't even been near a design wall, and most of it unremembered shards of creative impulse, smoked to nonexistance.
But it was a void world out there. I had a few Buckeye chickens left to look at that had somehow survived the smoke as the spit and crackling fire moved through their world and left only 1/3 of them behind, homeless and shaken. But it was less than a week later that I found myself wanting a sewing machine beneath my hands and when I ran across a gift certificate from a daughter in my purse given me for my 68th birthday, well, I couldn't waste that.
I had decided to see if my daughter (in-law) would loan me her sewing machine, and then I talked to a sewing friend about it. The next thing I knew, I was going out of her house with a New Home machine, and a load of tools and necessities, and some not so necessary stuff bundled into the trunk of Bessie, my little red 4 runner.
When my husband saw the machine, he demanded that I hem three new pair of jeans for him. That took a long time. Is there anything more frustrating, exasperating and sewtime killing then hemming jeans for someone?
In the meantime, I pulled out three borrowed quilt books and started planning a mindless, meandering quilt project. Something simple, and just casual sewing was what was needed. Oh, "The Road Home Block", that looks and sounds perfect.
Somewhere along the way, the Road Home was needing more variety so it is being enlarged to contain other blocks that fit into a square in a square pattern. There are pages of notes of how many blocks of what, and color planning of the triangles that will fit it together into a cohesive eclectic collection. How did that happen? Where does the mind come up with this stuff? When did it just take off and start running on its on? This is crazy! Who is in charge here?
My little 2 x 3' space allotted to my "sewing" is creeping, oozing out from its designated tiny corner of this single wide trailer we are renting. I think a monster is growing over in that corner of the kitchen that will just take over if I am not careful!
Meanwhile up on the hill, a block away, our "Home' has been cleared away. Trees have been chopped down and brush hauled away, rubble removed and ashes dug and carried out.
On our dining table, there is a drawing in progress of "the house" to be and on the hill, there is a foundation poured and stem wall forms ready to be poured tomorrow.
I have always designed houses, and wanted to build "my own". That won't happen. This house is not a creation that I 'wanted' to design, no architectural masterpiece from my free spirit, but instead an extension of need. No, I didn't want a prebuilt home. No, I didn't want anyone else to design it. But it had to be done and done quickly. One of my children said its different than our Home, but kind of laid out in much the same pattern.
The first thing I discovered is we can't live in a small tiny bit of space. What are you to do? Your kids can sleep elsewhere when they come home, but you need space to eat and drink in,and thats the real heart of home. So- well, its going to be interesting. I hope it gets built. I hope the funds arrive when necessary. I hope, it goes well. It looks sure and steady on the lot, and bigger than our old house. It isn't is it? Bigger I mean?
We worked out a two bedroom house with an office for Dear Husband, a bedroom, studio and laundry for my daughter in her own upstairs suite. ( interestingly enough, she didn't want her own kitchen??)
And I get what dear husband calls "mom's great room" a combination of mud room for barn chores and gardening, laundry room for maintenance and a space for computer, designwall and sewing machine and a LITTLE fabric. Since there was space under the roof structure for it, we threw in two guest bedrooms. My mind is already venturing into the future yard, trying to decide on trees and shrubs, bird shelter and so on.
I guess there is still life in the minds eye anyway.
So am I changed? Or just alittle bruised and rising from the ashes of the storm?
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