This just seems to bring both together – the holy with the secular – for seasonal contemplation.
please, enjoy the music while you read the following, I promise it is related to the main thrust of this blog post…and since there are several guitar solos, well, you don’t really need to watch the lyrics up on the screen
Okay, so I’ve been starting and stopping in the writing of several blog posts.
I need to feed the blog, yes, but I gotta say my focus has been a bit wonky since returning from my five weeks visiting Dad. I started to write about that in a post entitled “Spider Webs, Jacob’s Ladder and Losing the Strand” but could only get so far when I’d lose the strand…(
to be finished and posted at a later date).
Then on to a relatively easy Shoutout about the great Maestro Ricardo (and my friend) receiving a prestigious award at the annual GFA Convention in Denver, held just one week after I left. I wanted to attend, but those plans got trumped (don’t know if I like that term anymore…) with the Dad-card. No regrets at all, but it does leave the “Shoutout: In Honor of the Maestro Ricardo” in the queue to be sent sometime whenever I can do a final edit on it…again, the focus thing is the limiting factor here. It may never get finished and sent out since it’s more (out)dated news.
I discovered early on that I didn’t have the energy required to return to my current Swimming with Swans projects. This of course lead to frustration because I needed something to do in the realm of creating while navigating this new pattern of four weeks here and two weeks there; along with the emotional stuff that goes along with end-of-life and long distance elder care.
So I picked up the needle…that phrase is loaded, eh? I first mentioned this phrase in my post “The Rusty Quilter” that describes my history and re-introduction to quilting and fiber art.
note: still visiting with Dad and Up a Creek, but wanted to send this on in the interim.
It’s just not going away, people. Joblessness & Homelessness is still an on-going reality.
Jane is a blogger-buddy of mine. She is an Everyday (American) Canadian*.
Like you. Like me.
This lady speaks candidly and with more courage than I ever could during our own between homes journey. Her journey-details differ from our own, but the pattern is rote: no job – no home. The experiences and feelings felt are similar if not the same in some instances.
I stand with you, Jane. Continue reading
Over these past three years of Thanksgivings, a tradition of sorts has evolved. It seems our son Joe’s holiday of choice is Thanksgiving. Each Thanksgiving since landing here in South Carolina after our between homes journey, he has flown in to join us at the family feasting table. This fourth year was no different. He spent 10 days with us, kind of a combination re-group after his 2.5 month vacay in the DR and holiday time with the fam. This year we three took our walk in the Swamp the Saturday after Thanksgiving as usual only at a new-to-us spot: Woods Hole. To date, that is hands down our fav Swamp-place. But this post is about last year’s Swamp walk…
The Saturday after Thanksgiving 2014, I took a walk in the swamp with my son.
One day, years ago, Amy-next-door came to call. She often came to visit with her two little girls in tow to play with my youngest two kiddos as they were all around the same age. This time, she stood holding two paper grocery bags.
“Look what I found!” Amy said as she thrust the two bags into my arms.
Feeling light as a feather for all their fullness, I immediately knew they were filled to the brim with fabrics.
“I found these at a garage sale for $0.75 and I thought you might like to use them.”
More than just neighbors, Amy-next-door and I were enablers…always on the look-out for each other’s vices: she and her buttons, I and my fabrics.
As I began rummaging through the brown paper bags, I noticed they contained more than just scraps or random cuts of material. There was a huge piece of white cotton flannel, a stack of pre-cut 10 ½ x 10 ½ flannel squares, a handful of 3 ½ x 3 ½ ones and miles of uncut flannel fabrics of varying designs and colors.
This was someone’s UFO (quiltspeak for ‘UnFinished Object’). Continue reading
Here’s to the Nines:
2014: my year for exiting the Nines.
Of course, by interpolation, 2013 was my year for entering into the Nines.
It wasn’t until close to the end of the prep that I noticed something strange. Continue reading
Thought I’d spice this up a bit with some of my good ole Italian…besides, a picture is worth a thousand words, so if there’s any question of what that title means, just take a gander at this:
Note: the title of this post refers to the name of my current quilt WIP
As mentioned in a prior post, I’m a quilter from way back when. For the most part, I prefer to work with what is at hand, supplementing materials as needed during each individual project. As a result, my projects display differing degrees of scrappiness appropriate to their ultimate use. Whether utilitarian or artistic, literal quilt blankets or wall hangings, craft or fiber art projects, the underlying theme is always one of creating pieces from what I have on hand. Very much in keeping with the fundamental value of making do with what one has, then augmenting as the need arises.
While living on the compound in the desert outside Las Cruces, NM, I worked retail at the JoAnnFabrics in town. Just being in the store each working day was creative eye candy to my soul. I couldn’t make quilts due to our living circumstances, but those creative juices had free roaming privileges within my mind. Continue reading