knit...simply knit

Change

2011-10-22T09:31:00.000-04:00

"Let's just go ahead and change everything all at once" was my husband's response to my idea for a new job, as if we hadn't been through enough lately.

"Okay" I said.

But really, his support was unwavering, encouraging, trusting, and it is with great faith and I admit a bit of fear that I step out into a new venture.

The flower and food-filled good-bye yesterday was more than I expected and I choked back some tears amidst the hugs, cards and well-wishes.

Over the past few months I've been amassing a collection of post-its with quote after quote from one source or another, they're pasted all about the shelves around my desk, and these days I focus in on just one...

Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness. ~James Thurber

Together again

2011-10-11T21:38:00.000-04:00

And so ended 6 1/2 months of nearly single motherhood. Just like that, with a graduation, from the training academy that took my husband away from us week after week after week, changing his status from resident father to weekend visitor. It was not easy. It was not fun. It is not something we will repeat or look back upon fondly. We are ALL glad it's over. He steps out into a new career at midlife now and we watch and wait and hope it was all worth it. We trust and have faith that it was.

To celebrate a dateless 6+ months we hit the water. I tried my best to veg completely out and forget all but my name.

I knitted a little.

I zoned out to music.

I tried to see how many different ways I could photograph a fishing rod.

I enjoyed the Levi's scenery and the company of their occupant.

He, on the other hand tuned 'in' to trying to catch bait so he could catch bigger fish. An endless quest, the thrill of which escapes me. But, I drove him up and back and all around and here and there and everywhere chasing fish until finally....

...he netted the mother lode.

Which is always the case. There is nothing for quite some time and then one netful is more than one man can use.

But none of that really matters. The point was the getting away to a favorite spot. The point was hours alone, in the car, the boat, lunch together at a restaurant with boat slips for parking spots. The celebration was life together again, saying goodnight face to face and goodmorning the same way instead of via text messages. We're really beyond all that.

Almost there

2011-09-29T22:51:00.000-04:00

That he left behind an old Chinese fortune that he'd been carrying around in his wallet for months for me to find was not a surprise.

That life with him just keeps getting better and better is. Who knew this is how it's supposed to work out?

It reads:

Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation.

What I needed, when I needed it. Love at it's best.

Yes, I still knit

2011-09-24T11:13:00.000-04:00

A much needed office clean out uncovers all sorts of little goodies like these hats, among other knitted gems. People used to wonder and ask me all the time, how I had the time to "make all this stuff". I now wonder that myself. How in the world.

I've slowed down and moved on to other things, but the knitting hasn't gone away completely.

I'm in the midst of a custom order, two hats, one with a Porsche, the other with a Holstein cow, not kidding. People know what they want.

I'm making raglan-sleeved sweater for daughter #3 with plans for one for daughter #2 right after.

Will there be one for myself? That remains the unanswered question.

The nice part now is there's no pressure. No shows, no market, no late nights. My own pace, on my time, what little there is of it.

These past six months have been some of the most difficult, knitting if anything should be a comfort rather than another added stressor. I know I will look back and it will all make so much more sense than right now when I'm still standing right on top of it. Looking forward.

Number 3

2011-09-22T16:27:00.000-04:00

I think it must be hard sometimes, to be the youngest, to be the littlest of three. I've always joked she's not only my littlest but my loudest, ensuring she never gets forgotten. But more than that she makes her presence known much before the other two.

She is glued to me, sitting at my feet as I type, talking incessantly until I remind her the 300th time to focus on homework. It is nothing I planned for, but then all of this has been so unexpected in so many ways.

She melted down yesterday twice, consumed with tears over her sister's piano lessons, the focus on someone else besides her. And while on the one hand I have to remember the egocentricities of the child mind, how all life is somehow about her at every moment in time, I couldn't pass up the teaching moment with a long, deep snuggle in a big oversized chair, while thumbing through magazines for distraction.

Why not?

2011-09-13T20:00:00.000-04:00

"Are those the mushrooms over by the barn" asked my middle daughter.

"Yep." I said.

"Why'd you take pictures of them?"

"Why not?"

"Oh yeah, good point."

(she would be my artist.)

Hittin' the trail

2011-09-12T21:15:00.000-04:00

I laced up my running shoes again after taking a couple of weeks off to nurse a little injury. I'm surprised I could start again so soon and hope my ambition doesn't get the best of me. There was a sudden "POP!" and a hobble, and fire and loss of use and that sudden feeling of old that accompanies injury. I really hate it.

"Your body is trying to tell you something" a good friend offered as he shared his marathon training stories and weekly mileage.

"Said the preacher to the choir," I thought and kept to myself. Frustrated. Old.

I'd only just bought these shoes, my favorite kind that I buy year after year so I could throw my trashed ones out. I had just started having racing visions for the first time, but now....

Time will tell. Time and ice and perseverance and a whole lotta stretching beforehand. I'm just glad to be back out there on my trail.

My brain wakes up when I run. I write in my head as I go. Sometimes it is prayer. Yesterday, I asked for forgiveness, for the ways in which I am hurtful, yet do not see it. A good run.

If only

2011-09-06T17:25:00.000-04:00

We pulled the music back out yesterday, me and the kids, a whole great big stack of it. Mostly things I can't believe I used to play, case in point, the piece above. I used to play it flawlessly, without a thought, without thinking it was any big deal at all. Only now do I realize what I once had because I've lost it all. All that breath, all the tone, only the memory of how to play the notes still lingers, indelible in my brain and fingers from so many years of playing.

But the music will be with me forever, stirring in my head, I am drawn to it, I rise and fall with the melodies, they bring back memories and feelings long forgotten.

Frustrated and dissapointed I picked up the guitar instead, a softer, gentler sound and deep. My fingertips are numb today from plucking along with youtube, and I marvel at how easy it is now to access a simple lesson. I am not good. I am a novice with an ear. It's a place to start.

The girls marched around the house the rest of the afternoon with the mouthpiece of my flute, trying to see if they could produce a sound other than a squawk, surprised that their mother knew how to do more than make dinner, do laundry and apply band aids. And I have come to know myself in a different way too, regarding something I never took the time to look back very closely upon but knowing always that it was there, this other side, this other world.

So now I try something new, it's never too late they say, but of course what I'd really love to be able to do is play like this...

Waiting it out

2011-08-31T20:24:00.000-04:00

The hurricane came through last weekend and we hunkered down, trying to remember when the last time it was that we gave ourselves an excuse to stay in, cuddle up, be lazy and just be with one another.

The dogs were one, unaffected

and two, worried sick, though you can't tell it here, it's one of his more serene moments but if you look closely you might detect a hint of worry around the eyes.

He made it just fine and tried to have a big game of chase at 9 p.m. with guilty party number one above when I took them out to use the facilities while the wind still whipped and rain blew sideways. It wasn't one of his most clear moments, but even dogs go a little bonkers after being cooped up all day inside.

The power went out. The cable, phone, internet went out. Things got quiet. There were some bedtime tears only from one of the three kids all tucked into the same bed, lined up in a row, just how they wanted it. A night to remember. By morning one had ended up on the couch.

And as usual the weather the day after a hurricane is some of the prettiest ever. We managed not to lose any trees, even those with a serious lean created in 2003 from Isabel.

Then there's the yard waste, country style. This amount is minimal and just from up right around the house. Could have been much worse.

Every hurricane we have I eye the giant old oaks that tower right around the house and hope the day they decide to fall I am not sitting inside waiting for them.

Right Right Here

2011-08-30T21:54:00.001-04:00

Before, life seemed to be one great big jumbled mess, where highs and lows were nearly indistinguishable, mostly because, well, things were a mess and the highs (if there were any) were cloudy, shrouded with ambiguity and certain to take a turn for the worse. I'm talking a long time ago, when I didn't know any better, when I took what came because that's what I knew and because I had no choice in the matter.

But step by step I've come to know more, to know better, to be able to reason and pick apart the good from the bad and steer my course in the direction of the former, toward what feels right, and soothing to the soul.

Since this change in practice, the contrast in light and dark becomes so much more easy to detect, especially when they are juxtaposed, one right practically on top of the other.

Last night he had our full attention. This son of a bluegrass legend, a former Grand Old Opry guest, a traveler, wanderer, a hall-of-famer, this humble son who said he only could pick out a few tunes had us spellbound and in awe and fully entertained for an evening in our living room. A special, unexpected gift.

But just as life seems so right, so right now, new, fresh, forward-moving and free, I am reminded that I have chains to the past. It only takes a phonecall. However, this un-jumbled life is so much more clear. It's easy to see which road to take, which way my heart naturally now needs to go. It's home, and this is where I'll stay.

Flash Forward

2011-08-25T08:41:00.000-04:00

It's a strange thing to meet your future self, but that's just what I did the other day. She was a patient at the hospital and we only had a couple of encounters but we wasted no time getting straight to the heart of the matter.

She began with a 20 minute rant about the gross injustice, inappropriateness and insult of arrogance, egoism and abject criticism that had been unfortunately thrust upon her the day before and I listened and listened and felt every bit of her pain and frustration. I liked her instantly.

It was strange, our similarities, I knew them straight away and had the eerie feeling I was somehow looking into the mirror, flash forward 30 years or so.

We kept on the next day. She told me about her sheep, her wool, her knitting, her art, wonderful life with its troubles, the parts that have made her so strong, so resilient. We shared.

"You know, you're just like me," she said. "Oh, maybe that's too presumptuous, honey. I'm sorry, you may not want to be like me, but I think we have alot in common."

"No," I said, "I already felt that connection yesterday, I think we're on the same page. Funny."

"I think we were somehow supposed to meet. I really mean that, honey. You've really made my time here so much better. Thank you."

Some days have the potential to be just that surreal when I least expect it, usually when I need it most, and they remind me what I'm doing there in the first place.

Boat Days and a Little Americana

2011-08-23T19:45:00.000-04:00

Give us the chance and we would spend every day this way. Sometimes we feel very far from home.

Out with the old

2011-08-22T22:39:00.000-04:00

The afternoons are ripe for running again. Sun just warm enough and wind so cool against my sweaty skin that I get goosebumps all over when it blows and I keep on going. The day runs over and over and I leave little bits of it behind with each hop and leap over the twigs on my trail. I squint at the sun and it sparkles through the blond tips of my eyelashes. I clear my mind of mud and put in it's place what I'd like to go there instead. I see smiling children with lightly tanned shoulders and sunbleached hair from a long summer. Smiles brought forth by acceptance, healthy bodies from so much time and care spent. My life's work up till now, the single most important contribution I will put forth and I am smiling. I am grateful for life's gifts, those which I've been given and those which I have to give. It's the connection between us I treasure most, without it I wouldn't have had even half a life. One lucky girl.

Lingering

2011-08-20T21:10:00.000-04:00

I climbed the porch steps negotiating around two girls sitting smack in the middle of them shucking corn, grinning.

"We got crab and shrimp and corn and drumsticks and donuts!" they cried.

"Sounds like Daddy went to the store" I said. "He always gets the good stuff."

The little things never get old for them. Bare feet. The pleasure of long evenings, doing things differently sometimes, the way only Daddy can do them. The summer comes to a close, school starts soon and they know the ambivalence of being eager for it to begin and so sorry to see summer go.

I am right there with them. Every year.

Here's the part where I'm honest

2011-08-18T21:56:00.000-04:00

I unclog the shower drain. I clean the lint trap in the dryer every time I do a load. I make sure the water filtration system is maintained every six months. I recharge rechargeable batteries and refill soap bottles. We don't run out. There is always a supply of toilet paper and paper towels and clean underwear and socks. The dishes don't pile up. Most things are nauseatingly well-maintained except this summer for the gardens. The veggies, the flowers and me, we've all gone dormant.

I go through waves of being hopelessly inadequate at giving myself permission for personal expression. This might come as a surprise, for you see this whole self-taught-knitting-turned-blogger-dabbler-in-photography is quite the departure from my life long stifled self who was taught early on about shame, unimportance and punishment, the steep price to pay for straying. I learned to hide and think I did it rather well. But the achiever kept busy, in an understated sort of way, on the outskirts deflecting attention and the guilt lingered.

The time has come to unclog my drains, to clear my filters and change the medium, to recharge the batteries and let go of perfection, shame, guilt, fear. I'm breathing deep this week. Lungs full of ocean air and sun so warm I can feel it's golden hue from inside out.

My frustration frustrates me and needs to go. I hold myself back and listen to the voices that kept me clinging lifelessly to the lost. What a beautiful change, and terrifying to finally let go.

Personality

2011-08-17T22:37:00.000-04:00

I know my kids are different from one another. Plain as day, easy to tell, no mistaking it. But as something I'm as used to as my pudgy little toes, it still strikes me, how personalities are so present in pictures and how theirs are so vastly different.

Lookatmelookatmelookatme is the mantra of the littlest. I practically lose the middle one to her own imagination where a story unfolds every second in an elaborate world inside her head to which only she belongs.

She listens to miss bossy bossy but usually the waves have a stronger pull.

There is shyness,

contemplation, plotting the next course of attack,

and watchmewatchmewatchme,

I'm about to get...

grumpy.

Sweet, happy,

and busy since day one.

They suffer until the end, only posing nicely because I promised them...

this. (all but the third who sits in protest)

Summer Rhythm

2011-08-16T08:52:00.000-04:00

She looks for me.
She waits.
Pitiful as possible.

Some things I see only if I'm looking, and then only at the right time. These flowers open only at night, and in morning are already beginning to close.

By midday, tight.

With scary looking seed pods.

The ancient apple tree. ("...don't care 'bout spots on my apples, leave me the birds and the bees..." remember that song? this tree reminds me of that)

I always know where I can find love, devotion,

and hate. It's a princess-cat-I-used-to-be-a-stray-now-I'm-grumpy-leave-me-alone kind of thing.

But what I've turned to daily this summer has been the music.

A definite favorite.

Blindsided

2011-08-16T06:10:00.001-04:00

I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I was too busy to write and I was. So I stopped. And the camera sat untouched. But what I thought would help, didn't. The writing continued in my head and had nowhere to go. The pictures continued in my mind and had nowhere to go. They tossed and turned inside and the outcome was, well, unsavory.

So I creep back in. Slowly, feeling rusty, feeling different, so much has happened. So much change, so many hard things. But through it all knowing love changes everything and that is the lifeline to which I cling.

I lost a very dear friend just over a week ago. He was like none other. The surrogate father figure to so many of us lost children. He loved unconditionally, truly, to so many, yet each of us felt as if we were the only one. I treasure knowing him, his loss in part has led me back here.

I miss the way things were.

Music, reading and running have filled so much of my early morning and late night hours. A very welcome change. The fact that six miles can be a pleasant experience has me thinking about possibilities rather than middle age. So nice.

And new life, a whole slew of plants from the children's great grandmother in turn gives me new life. Funny how caring for a growing, living thing can touch something deep within, bringing forth hope, joy and a glowing ember of warmth spreading outward.

Before my friend passed on I found this song so moving, a lump appeared in my throat and tears in my eyes with the first few notes. But since then I'm dry, though it remains a favorite and good for a dreamy early morning run through the fields with the deer and the dew and all the spider webs spun the night before.

Inspiration all around

2011-04-10T22:53:00.005-04:00

1. this, my newest favorite running song. makes me feel like I can run forever.
2. the smell of the lilacs, they're in bloom everywhere.
3. watching my husband play baseball with the kids while running to song in #1 and inhaling giant breaths of #2.
4. texting binges with husband in #3 when we can't be together.
5. being told "I love you" while getting a strong hand squeeze from a very sick, very dear friend on my way out the hospital door. some things you just can't take lightly.

Mother, mother thyself

2011-04-08T16:19:00.012-04:00

I went to bed the other night at 9:30. Signed off. Lights out. Pillow over my head and I was gone. Done. Exhausted. I felt it was the only option. I'm glad I heeded my own advice because the next day was much better than the three prior all put together. But that's how it gets doesn't it, when we run ourselves ragged? Perhaps at least one of you can relate.

I've never been that good at taking care of myself. I find it much more comfortable to focus my attention outward. So it fits that I clearly remember a rather mundane conversation I had in the hospital with my nurse after having my first child. I think it was the first day still and I was so excited, keyed up, and asked for some Excedrin because I was getting a headache. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "NO. You need to go to sleep. Go to sleep."

I was a little taken aback, I'll admit. I didn't want to go to sleep, I'd just had a baby and wanted to stay awake for hours on end just staring at him of course. But she was right. What I really needed was to sleep. I was exhausted. Beyond tired. So that's what I did and when I awoke I was ready for the next thing. She was right as much as I hated to admit it.

I guess my point in all this rambling is that as much as your friends might look out for you (and they do--as much as you'll let them), or as much as your employer may say they care about you (maybe they do), and as much as your family loves you (I'm sure they do), it's really up to you to take care of you. Sorry, but that's just reality. Good news is it works. I felt great that next morning like I could do almost anything.

What's new

2011-04-01T17:12:00.004-04:00

I'm plugging away over here. Filling orders, running kids to practices, watching things bloom, running, feeding everyone and everything under my care including 6 new baby chicks...I swear there's not much cuter. Anyway, enjoy a couple more necklaces before I slip into the weekend. A simple and new version of my double-stranded black, and a very dark purple. I'm not a purple fan but when I saw this particular bead I knew I had to snatch it. So very pretty. Here's to a wonderful weekend and a great big wish for warmer weather!

Bring on the bells

2011-03-20T20:09:00.003-04:00

Some time ago I introduced a little red bell necklace to my shop, I don't know if you remember it or not, but it became a quick favorite on Etsy and all that I had, sold out. I couldn't duplicate the bells exactly, but luckily my searching turned up some different red bells and a few other colors so now I have a few new styles to show you.

First, the one at the top, that is sort of a blue-ish green swirled with tan that reminds me of the earth as it looks from far off in space. I know, kinda out there on that analogy, play along.

Then the green one with brown beads below,

and finally a re-creation of the favored red and carolina blue color combo below.

My last bead store trip unearthed a whole host of goodies that I can't wait to get my hands on, so stay tuned for more new styles to hit the shop in the coming days and weeks.

Spring is finally upon us and as the weather turns so increases my jewelry-making. As I throw off the winter bulk, warm my skin by the sun and hope for the first bits of a tan, I find myself awake with ideas, perhaps more ideas than there is time. But then you've heard that story....

Anonymity, gossip and the city girl

2011-03-08T19:59:00.006-05:00

Gossip is theology translated into experience. ~Kathleen Norris Dakota: A Spiritual Geography

I picked up the mail the other day and right on top was a big, shiny, brochure for a professional conference in the large city where I grew up. I opened the pages and saw the bright lights, the tall buildings, the familiar names and places that seemed so exciting and the center of all I once knew. I felt the pangs of memory, of familiarity. I considered attending.

I remember first arriving in the small town where I attended college and had my first of what was to be many experiences of being an outsider upon just walking into a local restaurant. You know, the kind of place where you walk in and all heads turn in your direction, eyes roam over you from head to toe as if to scan for viruses. I vividly remember remarking to a friend that I wished I could be back in St. Louis where one could be completely, unequivocally, almost absolutely anonymous in any hundred restaurants in town. I remember longing for that degree of solitude, the feeling of fading into a sea of people, of being able to do anything I wanted without constant monitoring.

Flash forward to what seems a world away from those days to yesterday at the local post office, just a few miles up the road from my house. It is a friendly place. The postmaster and I are on a first name basis as she is with probably 80% of the folks who walk through her doors. She knows whether they pay by cash, credit or debit. She knows if they want "insurance on that" or shipping confirmation. She never has to ask if there is anything perishable, hazardous or illegal in your package. She knows the answer. We exchange pleasantries, mothering stories. She knows my children.

While there I ran into two "country" neighbors (not the kind whose house you'd hit if you threw a stone), one I go to church with, along with his wife and 10 children. They recently sold the wine distributorship they owned for many years. They now run a growing Montessori school on their farm. They are a singular, unique and driving force in the community and I am glad to know them. The other I know by pure chance. He is a business partner with his wife, who herself used to work for Martha Stewart Living. They now own and run an exquisite stationery company. "God is in the details" they state in their business profile and it is clear with just one look...he is.

Turns out, we all three knew each other. Of course we did. And we all knew the postmaster. She knew us.

I wonder if these are the things I missed out on in that sea of anonymity in the big city. I wonder if it takes a special sort to search out the small places and stay here, where we have our wide openness, our aloneness and yet nearly all of our comings and goings are common knowledge. There is not much that passes by unknown in a small town. Word travels fast. Networks are tight and farreaching. Sins are dark and deep as in any other place, only here we pull for each other.

...the tales of small-town gossip are often morally instructive, illustrating the ways ordinary people survive the worst that happens to them; or, conversely, the ways in which self-pity, anger, and despair can overwhelm and destroy them. Gossip is theology translated into experience. In it we hear great stories of conversion, like the drunk who truns his or her life around, as well as stories of failure. We can see that pride really does go before a fall, and that hope is essential. We watch closely those who retire, or who lose a spouse, lest they lose interest in living. When we gossip we are also praying, not only for them but for ourselves. ~Kathleen Norris Dakota: A Spiritual Geography

Daydreaming

2011-02-22T19:20:00.005-05:00

Spring seems far off, impossible, but it is coming. Already there is dusk instead of darkness at five in the afternoon; already hope is stirring at the edges of the day. ~Kathleen Norris, Dakota: A Spiritual Geography

I suppose I knew when I set the jar of wave-washed shells on the window seat in my office that one day far off in February I'd be looking at them in a longing sort of way, hoping, waiting, wishing hard for warm days. Those days are here and have settled in to stay. We've been teased and taunted by 70 degrees and I've had to watch my children run barefoot through the yard, in this gray February no less, knowing full well that the chill would return, the ice along with it and weeks more of winter. I am right now, finally wishing for the end of it.

I'm doing my best to avoid whatever plague it is that has struck my husband, and hoping to keep it from spreading through the house, dancing this yearly dance that we do with sickness. I listen to the stories from the kids about which of their friends were sent home with which unspeakable malady and how many others in their family are befallen with the same dreaded ick. "Wash your hands", is about all I can say and just hope to see the forsythia popping open soon.

"Key West" my husband says, will be our final answer. Key West is where we'll settle, or someplace like it. Somewhere warm. A place where clothing is light, swimsuits are daily attire and shoes are optional. But I always wonder if the winter doldrums can be felt there too or if there is some equivalent. I wonder if it's the rain that nags at people's sensibilities and makes them long for something else. Or is the sand a frustration or the salt air that destroys and corrodes or are they worth living with just for the temperate climate? I don't know, or won't at least for a good while, at this point I'll settle for the escape the dream offers, it's far better than complaining.

Rekindled

2011-02-15T19:03:00.006-05:00

When he said he was going to start running again I nearly jumped out of my chair I was so excited. This was the final frontier of our marriage, I told him, the one last thing that we could do together that I thought we were missing out on, running.

When we met over 14 years ago he ran on average four nights a week, ate fast food as much as possible and had a fridge full of beer, you know, the life of a bachelor. As time went on, all of the above have practically disappeared, you know, the life of a happily married man. Even he will tell you that. But for reasons beyond this post the running is returning and I am a happy woman.

Our first foray out onto the trail went something like this:

me: "I love this! This is so great, I'm so glad you're doing this again, I love having someone to run with!" I blurted, bouncing along as we went.

him: "Yeah. Great." huff. puff.

me: "I mean, I know you're doing this for yourself and all, but I'm so glad you're taking an interest again in something I like to do, this is so much fun!!" leap! leap!

him: "Humph." plod. plod.

And that's about how those first couple of runs went, but as he's gone more and more the ease and natural grace of a former athlete has come back, the stride has returned and today we ran in quiet unison, headphones on, through the trail. A few surprise Rocky punches into mid-air for effect and some backward running purely for my amusement were the clear indication that at 40 we are far from old, dated perhaps, but the spirit of youth remains as we refuse to let it go. The only thing that made it better was hearing this song, at just the right point in the run, and that yes, there was nothing holding us back. A happy woman.

Back in black

2011-02-05T19:41:00.003-05:00

After searching for just the right beads to replace my favorite black ones that I can no longer buy, I've found success and have two new necklaces to share.

They may look similar to what you've seen in the past, but trust me, there are some subtle differences, especially with the second one.

I hope you'll enjoy, from my shop, the first necklace here and the one below here. The fruits of my Friday afternoon labor.

A changed perspective

2011-02-04T17:19:00.008-05:00

Some Friday afternoons I think there's nothing better than holing up in my little office, the door slid closed, sitting in the window seat, music playing, making something new. The kids are settled, no homework, no busy schedule (usually), or at least there's typically a break in time before running back out on to the next thing. The still and calm are all I'm asking for, the time to myself, the time to breathe deep and settle in to the weekend, knowing the demands are temporarily are fewer, less urgent, or can just wait.

Things have changed of course, I'm not quite sure how I landed at exactly this place, but I know it happened gradually, largely without my being aware. Every once in a while I'm reminded of my age, my stage, where I really am. Working with many twenty-something-year-olds can be an ever-present reminder of how I fell asleep one day at 30, whirled around three times on the pregnancy merry-go-round which promptly spat me out 10 years later, back into another crew of twenty-something-year-olds who hold the mirror up to my age.

"What are you doing tonight?" one of them asked me one day at work, as if I had plans or something. (and on a weekday!)

I chuckled and started in, "Well, let's see, I get the kids off the bus, then it's homework, then one load of laundry after the next, you know the laundry never ends, then there's general child management which can involve nearly anything you want to name from conflict resolution to deep conversation to tickling to sports to friends and playdates or wiping tears, then meal preparation, lunch prep for the next day, back to the laundry, connecting with the husband, tending to household management, my business, life, dogs, chickens, the kids some more and then it's their bedtime and then more time with my husband and then my bedtime and it all starts over again the next day. Why, what are you doing?"

"Aggh! That sounds practically awful!" was his only response.

"Hmmm. Awful. It's never been awful. In fact, I wouldn't describe it ever as awful. It's really all I've ever wanted and all I still want. I love my family. I wouldn't trade it for anything. That's just the way things are." he was dumbstruck.

And I realize how thankful I am for that merry-go-round and how astonished I am at how it works its magic. If he's lucky, he'll step foot onto his own one day and he won't know what happened and that's probably the way it's really supposed to be, that is if you're very, very lucky.

Country life

2011-01-29T17:44:00.005-05:00

These are the ratty, old coveralls I put on the other day so I could shimmy under the house to try to find the mouse that had died somewhere up under there. I did it partly on a dare, (husbands you know) but partly because I said I would, because I could, and because sometimes I like doing things I have no business doing as long as I know no one will get hurt. It's my chance to feel like a pioneer, a frontierswoman, you know way out here in the boonies, 5 miles from the suburban mega mall in my farmhouse, crawling through the dirt in a two-foot crawlspace under 80 years of timber and spiderwebs looking for rodent carcasses. Of course it was yucky, but then, what would you say you've done lately that really reminded you that you were alive? That's what I thought. And no, to answer your question, I didn't find a cotton pickin' thing.

Out and about

2011-01-26T19:33:00.007-05:00

It all looks so different in winter. Cold, withdrawn, asleep. Even on a near 50 degree day, yesterday, which has suddenly turned into snow, sleet and ice today. Only a few short months to go and I can pry myself from the woodstove more often. How I love that woodstove.

The dogs could care less about woodstoves.

The cat on the other hand only ventures out on 50 degree days and stays plastered to the woodstove on others. She's 14 1/2. We'll allow it.

She and everything else seems to wish for the sun's return, even the chickens who are easily tricked by a light into laying.

I'm making plans to increase the flock,

the girls are almost two which I hear is nearing the tail end of their prime laying years. I suppose that could be good, or bad, depending on how you look at it. At any rate, some youngsters are in the works.

And since I can't bring myself to kill anyone (it's a bit early yet), you may just see them aging gracefully and dying the old fashioned way, as the new brood takes over laying. I expect some ruffled feathers. The henhouse can be a rough place.

However you look at it

2011-01-24T16:41:00.007-05:00

From where I sit change is certain.

From where I sit I see good things all around. I only hope that at a time such as this, where we find ourselves standing at the begining of a new path, that what we want is truly what we need.

One thing is for sure, that if you told me twenty years ago what my life would look like today, I wouldn't believe you. And that's the truth.

The watermark

2011-01-16T13:23:00.003-05:00

Hello again. It's good to be back with new pictures for you, new finds by way of that little red bell up there, and new listings in the shop. You'll also start to notice (unfortunately) a watermark accompanying my photos due to the pirating of my product photos by some (yes, more than one) companies based out of China. All I can picture is the poor soles in some sweatshop somewhere being forced to try to reproduce my stuff. Wish it weren't so.

But here I am being forced in a way to protect what's mine and when I pause to look at the final product I'm struck by the notion that it looks a bit more professional and I am pleased. But I'm not the final judge of course, what do you think?

Favorites

2011-01-01T16:35:00.009-05:00

I love sifting back through old pictures. These are just a few of my favorites from the past year. While I tend to think of them as a record of what is or what was, I'm struck by the thought that they really just serve as a record of change. The kids look different every time I turn around as does the sky, the garden, really everything. Each shot is only a glimpse of a fleeting moment, but they stay with me for as long as I choose to keep them. Enjoy.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T13:54:00.007-05:00

The children stood trembling with excitement by our bed this morning at 5:50 a.m.

We go from being in technology overload,

to retro,

to complete bliss, all in just one quick glance around the room.

Of course Big Kid #1 is napping in the other room, completely worn out from all the excitement and/or food. I hope you've had a wonderful Christmas.

My List

2010-12-22T09:24:00.005-05:00

In a season where people often ask, "What's on your list?" I'd like to share my list of a different sort, things I'm thankful for this holiday season. Here goes...in no particular order

1. Time off (yay!)
2. gift buying, card sending completed a whole week early (first time ever)
3. tons of help from my husband :) #2 would otherwise not exist
4. my chickens started laying eggs again! their second winter they don't lay unless you trick them with a light to extend their daylight hours (thanks again to the hubby and daughters who rigged the light for me)
5. a babysitter that puts me totally at ease and fills the house with smells of Christmas baking and who has a mellowing effect on the kids (jaw drops open here)
6. my busiest and most successful Christmas knitting season ever (and I thought quitting the farmers market would be my downfall)
7. happy dogs
8. happy kids
9. happy marriage
10. the chance to bake way more than I need to, just because
11. an old friend hopefully moving back to town (fingers crossed!)
12. my ideal job, without it #1 wouldn't be possible either
13. friends
14. creativity. the kind that prompts my son to make a punching bag out of pillows with his friend, and my daughter to write a book so intriguing that her tablemates at school snatch it during free reading time
15. my other daughter's two front teeth
16. hope for the future. for changes coming, for hearts softening, reality hitting. for eyes lifting and a life that continually moves forward.

Maize

2010-12-06T19:30:00.003-05:00

as promised...the hat....and booties to match

Is it over yet?

2010-12-02T19:41:00.005-05:00

It has been one of those weeks. You know (those weeks), where so many things happen, big and little, stressful things, tiring things, exciting, good, confusing, mundane, exhausting things that by Wednesday you find yourself curled up and squished together in a big chair with your husband for a very long time watching the Blue Lagoon (of all movies) because there's nothing better on but you don't care and you don't want to move and all you need is to veg out. And it wasn't just me, it was him too and today just added to it all and he said he wished for seventeen Saturdays beginning tomorrow. One of those weeks.

But the good news is I made a new hat, and some booties to match, and they'll be up in the shop just as soon as I can snap some more good shots of them both. And the shop is doing well, folks are getting ready for Christmas, I see it every time a man buys a necklace from me. I know it's for his wife and I secretly love the way he's shopping for her from her list because I know he didn't find it by accident.

So here's to a happy Friday tomorrow, some curling up and squishing together time, some vegging out, and wishing for seventeen Saturdays to follow.

Thanksgiving

2010-11-27T08:02:00.010-05:00

I spent the better part of two days baking, chopping, cleaning, preparing, mixing and cooking and when I rolled out of bed Friday morning my legs ached from my knees down, my belly was still full up to my neck and my hands were swollen from too much salt. But, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat, it was totally worth it as it is every year.

For many reasons it is perhaps my most favorite holiday, only now that I'm an adult. And that is often what I'm most thankful for, the holiday itself, the new traditions we're creating here for the kids, the chance to celebrate with family for family's sake, to recognize our collective blessings and state them aloud. There are so many good things about this day. Then there's the food.

Homemade sausage cornbread stuffing (a new addition),

chocolate cheesecake with an Oreo crust (new this year too, gotta have chocolate),

among all the other favorites

including very old linens on very old tables,

using every square inch of furniture,

down to the simple place cards that I let my girls make every year. I love to see how they change. We even managed a super-moist and tender turkey convincing me once again that it's all about the brine. Trust me. It's one of the best parts, me and my husband in our pajamas, wrestling a 16 lb turkey into a big pot of salty, sugary, watery mix and then flipping it over the next morning. You should try it.

What Saturday brings

2010-11-20T21:05:00.015-05:00

When the day finally comes when I have nowhere to be, I hardly believe it's real. So I make the coffee large,

sneak off to my office and quietly slide closed the pocket door,

sit in the sun that's streaming through the large window,

and make more of these.

This is the time of the year where I've lost part of the family to the water, but I'm happy for the quiet, still mornings,

and set to revisiting some old favorites for a good friend, this time in a different color.

Just for you, Suz.

For really no reason at all...

2010-11-17T21:48:00.005-05:00

....other than this is where my thoughts are, tangled up in my surroundings, scooping leaves out of dog bowls and watching the colors fall... cuddling up on cold nights when darkness comes too soon... preparing for Thanksgiving and bringing to mind all those things I am so thankful for....

Confetti and horses

2010-11-16T15:44:00.005-05:00

I went ahead and made a second version of the necklace I posted about last. The vintage glass button pendant is smaller and it's kind of fun to wear both necklaces at once.

The following hats are the result of a custom order, based on the one in my shop. A woman wanted some of my organic hats with horse appliques for herself and her horse friends for Christmas. How fun, I'd love to see a group photo. And I finally hung my vintage hat stand in my office and used it. It's a much more cooperative model than the live version (aka 6-year old daugher). Enjoy.

Taking time

2010-11-14T14:50:00.005-05:00

Today I had the time, or rather I took the time to make a few things and listed this one in the shop.

It had been a long week, and it was a very long day yesterday. I attended (and helped coach--yikes)my son's team during his first adventure with a local Lego Robotics competetion. I can assure you that was an event like none other but one I'm sure to be involved with for years to come as evidenced by his one statement, "This is one of the best days of my life, Mom. I want to do this next year, all through middle school and in high school too." Oh boy, how can a mom argue with that?

I was a reluctant participant at first, but especially after yesterday I fully realized the value of the experience and how it pertains to his life now and in the future. The boy is well on his way to a world I know very little about but his talent is clear and his focus is undeniable, even enviable.

So after dragging myself out of bed this morning with a sore body and big bags under my eyes from sheer exhaustion from the day before, I settled myself in the office and proceeded to dig through beads. A few orders were filled and I had the chance to play around. It was just the slow day I needed.

Little things, big things

2010-11-09T18:28:00.006-05:00

I was sitting in the office, in the window knitting away and I heard the tractor start up. Normal. I watched as he drove slowly by me and noticed the auger attached to the back. Not normal. The auger is for big jobs. The auger is for digging big holes. I ran down the household "to do" list in my mind and nowhere on it was dig...big...holes.

He's up to something....

Then I remembered our conversation about the raised beds he'd like to put in the garden for next year. Great idea, weeds grow like crazeeeee out here, must be help from the cows who used to graze here for years and years. I pictured tiny little plots maybe 6' X 6' or something like that. This just goes to show what I've learned over the years of being married to this man: 1. when he sets his mind to doing something he does it well 2. he does it completely 3. he usually does it much bigger, more organized and well planned out than I originally thought.

This, of course is in direct contrast to the way I jump into projects with both feet before looking, get sidetracked half-way through and am then on to the next thousand things that distract me. Which is maybe why I started cleaning out the refrigerator in a dress 5 minutes before we left for church. Yeah, that's right. He made me stop. When we got home he took over. He emptied it completely out, scrubbed it down better than an operating room after surgery and I had to pinch myself when it was all over.

Why we like the country

2010-11-03T19:35:00.012-04:00

1. There isn't a neighborhood association to tell you what you can and cannot do.
2. The outside is just as important as the inside (sometimes even moreso) and space to run and play is part of who we are.
3. It smells good.
4. Getting away from people forces you to figure out who you are. That's important.
5. I can tell the kids to "go outside and play" and not have to worry about them getting snatched.
6. It's pretty almost everywhere you look.
7. You can see the stars and have big bonfires and play baseball without smashing any windows.
8. The kids can ride their bikes without leaving home and without helmets like it used to be.
9. They know how to play with virtually nothing for hours and have a ball.
10. I can run without ever leaving home. Follow me.....

I start off at the tire swing and go past the tool shed,

across the slate path,

down the hill,

past the firewood,

by the dogs (hi dogs),

past the chickens (hi chickens),

up to the beanfield,

down the path that the man of the house cuts for me,

by the neighboring field,

dodging the deer tracks,

and past the newest brushpile waiting to be burned (hint: this is what yard waste looks like in the country),

into the trail through the woods,

past the old remnants of farm,

under the big branches,

and old cedars,

out into the clearing and past the neighbors,

saying goodbye to the summer's poison ivy (good riddance),

dodging the mine fields full of black walnuts that smell strangely like lilies in springtime,

past the old rusty farm implements left behind so long ago,

and the well-house-turned potting shed,

next year's garden,

crazy children,

and back up to the house where the cannas have forgotten it's November and are on their second bloom.

Around and around I go, over to the barn, out to the road, and back, and I feel awakened, alive and at home.

Knitting for the nook

2010-11-01T20:03:00.004-04:00

It takes me a long time to make home furnishing decisions. A silly-too-long time, a way-too-long time, which is why I still don't have the pillows I want for my little window seat in the office. This is the most wonderful place to sit in the house, well, maybe a tie for by the woodstove, but it would be even better if I'd just make up my mind on some pillows.

I got to digging through my books the other day and came across this little number, the Humbug cushion in one of Debbie Bliss' books (love her) and it struck me that a knitter needs a knitted pillow cushion for the window seat in her office, right?

I showed it to the man of the house and he had several choice comments about what it reminded him of, the most appropriate to name here was Hershey's kiss. I started knitting it in stripes and in the round (just so it didn't resemble poo) for maybe 8 inches, didn't like it. Ripped it out. Then I started it just as it is above, ribbed and in brown. I'm bored with it. I'm thinking of going straight for some color, hot pink is what I'm leaning toward, but I'll take suggestions from the yarns below if you're so inclined.

The reluctant model

2010-10-27T17:02:00.004-04:00

The origin of the pout....none of my children do it finer than she. She used to frown (hard) as an infant while she slept. You think I'm kidding, I have the pictures to prove it. We'll laugh (hard) about them when she gets older.

For now, you can purchase this little hat here in my shop. Super soft organic cotton, a favorite with the horse lovers of which there are many in this part of Virginia. More colors/styles to come, stay tuned.

Mellencamp and my kitchen

2010-10-26T16:27:00.004-04:00

I've never thought of myself as much of a cook, but I like to cook, or rather I like to bake more. My kitchen activity goes in fits and spurts as time and my mood allows and this week is off to a good start. I made Ina Garten's "chicken stew with bisquits" last night which is probably the family's favorite meal. Roasted chicken, stew from scratch with cream and butter, and bisquits from scratch too, baked right on top full of goodness so good that it oozes right over the top of the dish. When I eat it I know what comfort food is.

Next week I'll probably be back to whatever I can find in the Trader Joe's frozen food section (which isn't bad) if I had to guess, but for now the family can live it up. I've gotten better with practice and lots of it, feeding a family of five a home cooked meal every night is a bigger challenge than I ever realized and when anyone complains about the menu....grrr....don't get me started.

All this reminds me of how far I've come though, and I'm thankful for the challenge. I used to feel like the woman in John Mellencamp's song, "Pink Houses" when he said, "I remember when she could...starve a block". Yeah, that was me in my 20's.

Stuff

2010-10-19T16:21:00.006-04:00

I'll admit it, I may be organized in some ways, but when it comes to stashing away old junk and corraling the endless stuff that accumulates on desktops and bedside tables and in kids' rooms I fall short. WAY short. I'm working on getting better at keeping things organized in the house, but as one who keeps track of things by laying them about so she can see them, I've got a long way to go.

We made major progress this past weekend by way of a yard sale. As hard as it is sometimes to let things go, it's always a great feeling when they're gone. It's like my neighbor who swears up and down that "going to the dump" (or getting rid of the junk) is akin to kneeling at the altar. He brings his burdens, lays them down and leaves them there. I like it.

One by one as our possesions were loaded up and then at the end of the day when the rest of it went to Good Will I truly felt better. I realized I hang onto things from the past as though the future hinges on their presence. I now know that's a completely misguided notion and one that's based on fear rather than reality, low esteem rather than self-assurance.

The kids will continue to outgrow their clothes and need new ones, the couch I have currently will one day be hideous like the last one, and dysfunctional relationships can and will be replaced with ones that work, lift up and encourage.

Favorite parts

2010-10-11T21:37:00.005-04:00

Just before the weather turns really cold, just before the leaves really begin to fall, while it still gets toasty warm during the day, it's the perfect time to go camping.

My favorite parts of the weekend had to be the campfires,

the way the sun streamed through the trees looking all smoky-hazy like,

watching the kids find fossils on the beach (zillion-year old shark teeth, so crazy)

the sun shining just right on the water,

fluffy beach grass making me think it's still summer,

and endless blue sky.

Because life is just that fast...

2010-10-03T20:53:00.003-04:00

This is a recent addition to the collection sitting in a little box on the old treadle sewing machine that sits in my office/studio. My husband's great grandmother used to make clothes for her children and grandchildren on this very machine. It still works. It still has all its parts. It still has the orginial manual and some random patterns from the 1950's or thereabouts.

Somehow she had time to make entire outfits for multiple children multiplied over years and spanning generations. I make one little necklace and can't find the right time to take the photos needed to be able to list the thing in my Etsy shop. But that's the name of the game right now and we're not even nearly the busiest family around. On purpose.

I blinked and my youngest has two front teeth coming in, likes a teeny-bopper pop radio station and knows what "skinny jeans" are and loves them.

My middle child turned into a serious bookworm, fan of anything that makes her laugh and has a knack for making things disappear (this irritates her mother).

My oldest is somehow now a football player (in a baseball/soccer player's body), expert on amusement rides and walks around like he's a teenager.

All the while their father and I struggle to keep the wheels in constant motion. Work, house, animals, kids, fun, dinners made, groceries stocked, allowances doled out, sporting events attended, not to mention a zillion other little things. But then you know that. Your house probably seems the exact same way.

Better late than never

2010-09-29T18:59:00.003-04:00

The rain has finally reached us and not a moment too soon, the dustbowl I like to call my yard was thirsty. I have to say sitting in my office window and listening to the pitter patter on the tin roof gives me that homey feeling all over. The only things that make it even better are a fire in the woodstove (a bit early for that), a candle burning (check), music (Alexi Murdoch and friends on Pandora today) and a bit of knitting.

Yes, below is the yet unfinished [Spring] sweater I started so long ago who's completion is imminent, just in time for Fall. Sure, I can wear 3/4 sleeves for a bit longer.

And awaiting my needles is the yummy, creamy, organic yarn that just came in the mail today. I love getting surprises in the mail, but then who doesn't?

Neat little packages

2010-09-28T21:48:00.007-04:00

I'm drawn to small patterns, neat, usually symmetric patterns. Predictable, intricate, repeating patterns. Crisp detail, perfect circles, and in the case of the photo above the clear anticipation of life waiting to burst forth. I like the implication of action in a non-action photo.

You don't really need to know this, you may not care, or for those who are still reading, this might make sense to you. Your brain may search for order, logic and reason where there usually is none. Growing up amidst near constant chaos will do this to a person. I am certain of that.

And so I find myself a knitter among other things but that isn't my point, it just merely makes sense. Patterns, order, predictability, control. This is knitting, it comforts many of us. I am thankful for the knitting.

Even though life doesn't fit into neat little planned packages as in a knitted pattern, where the outcome is known before one begins, I am learning to take hold of happiness while being surrounded by the imperfectness of it all. I am thus provided with the chance to learn, to grow and to know that uncertainty is okay, as long as it is not chaos, as chaos is a monster. It hides in closets and at the bottom of dark stairways and under little girls' beds. It never goes away. Unless the little girl finally grows up, and walks cleanly away down her own open path, leading to who knows where.

Orange Sky. an intermission.

2010-09-25T08:35:00.007-04:00

This is my best, recent orange sky, sunset over the East River. It has little to do with the Harvest Moon of late (have you seen the sky?), but worth a look, just like the video below, or rather it's worth a listen.

It both haunts and intrigues me, Alexi Murdoch's "Orange Sky", you won't be dissapointed. Even the husband loved it, and he's a tough critic.

An answer for Claire

2010-09-23T19:03:00.003-04:00

Some days are better than others. This was one of those better days. My husband's parting words to me this morning went something like this:

Don't do any work today. Well, try to do as little as possible. Please.

Upon sharing this with friends, one happened to inquire how such generosity comes about (look her up guys, I'm friends with a celebrity :))

Really, how do we stop butting heads with each other and learn to give freely and without expecting something in return? It got me to thinking and I'm prepared to muster up some semblance of an answer. Here goes.

1. First, it helps to be a bit neurotic and work yourself to the bone on a daily basis. Let's face it, if all I did was rest, I hardly think he'd tell me I needed more.

2. Remember marriage isn't a competition. We do different. One doesn't necessarily do more, the other less, just.....different.

3. Don't complain. No one wants to hear it.

4. Own your stress. You created it, don't blame it on each other. You can share the stress, but don't put anyone at fault, because no one is. Life is just that way sometimes.

5. Pick a good mate. A really, really good one. I like mine with a stong and gritty exterior, an intense love of the outdoors, sensitivity when you least expect it and depth of character when it matters most.

6. Reciprocate. I encourage him to go fishing.

7. Don't resent each other. Just don't do it. Resentment will kill a marriage as quickly as adultery.

8. Realize that it doesn't happen overnight. This comes from negotiating, working at it, being calm, discussing, listening, being persistent and working it out. But above all else, remember that the boundaries we create are best broken down when we are brave enough to be vulnerable with one another.

I hope that settles it Claire, and I hope the same for you.

Bye, bye, summer

2010-09-18T08:13:00.003-04:00

Good bye, summer and all of your wonderfully hot days. I'll miss your 8:30 sunsets, going barefoot anytime I want and long, lazy mornings. I wish you could stay forever so I would never have cold hands and feet (okay, I still have cold hands and feet) but you know what I mean.

Hello Fall, you're okay, very pretty I must admit, but I'm not very happy to see you. You mean winter is coming, you mean the days are getting shorter, you let me know with your 50 degree mornings that I'm going to be freezing in very short order and I'm not too happy about that.

I suppose I should move to the equator.

What makes it better

2010-09-06T08:43:00.007-04:00

Sometimes two really is better than one.

Two families blended means kids can entertain themselves for hours and days on end,

especially if you let them make their own "fishing rods" from recently cut bamboo, twine, strange metal antennae and randomly found curtain rods. (oh my)

Surfboards from 1965 are timeless,

and in constant motion, better when used by two.

Two rods, twice the fish,

and rolling out onto the dock in pajamas before breakfast, well, it's certainly a luxury.

But none of it would happen without the generosity of friends, and the ability to slip into step beside one another, working together to make life just a little bit (or maybe alot) more interesting.

Pairings

2010-08-29T08:34:00.006-04:00

listening to this
and of course this
and this one too

Nick Drake and the beach...they go together

....and a few more...

2010-08-25T16:44:00.004-04:00

leaving solitary footprints in the sand

wondering why looking for shells never gets old

trying to imagine who might live way out there

taking the boat from Kitty Hawk to Manteo
watching the dolphins 20 feet off the bow
blow out, breathe in, and swim under the boat

looking at the million dollar boats
and the yellow labs jumping off the dock

collapsing in the sand
just because you can
yep
it was pretty much just like that

Summer favorite

2010-08-24T21:41:00.004-04:00

getting away
finding a little piece of heaven
sitting and dreaming
digging, playing, watching it all
spending time
together
nothing better

Catching the light

2010-08-11T07:51:00.003-04:00

I feel the light changing already, on my morning walks, in the evening as the sun sets earlier and earlier. I want to tell summer to stay, that I haven't had enough yet, that if it could, I'd like it to stick around all year. But that is a child's dream, and one that somehow I still entertain, as if dreaming young keeps me so, and staves off all things crochety and old.

At the beginning of summer the sun rises on one side of the barn, by mid-summer it comes up directly behind it, and by this time of the year I see it come up all the way on the opposite side of the barn and even further beyond. I know by it's progression where we are, and no matter how I long for the days to stay warm, I know they won't. I'm reminded that with change comes nostalgia, gratitude, humility. That I control practically nothing, and am here to witness, to participate, encourage, love and add rather than detract from a world that sometimes makes no sense.

playing on my ipod and this one

What it feels like

2010-08-04T13:35:00.011-04:00

I'm sitting on his bed, waiting for him to fall asleep. Waiting out the fever. Wishing he was up, running around, but instead he's missing the baseball camp he's waited for all summer.

I never knew before having kids how bad I would feel, when they feel bad. Or how good I'd feel when they round 3rd heading for home.

If I could only bottle up the pang inside and let him drink it, the one that wants so badly for him to feel good, I don't think he'd ever be sick again. If only.

Working

2010-08-03T20:24:00.007-04:00

Believe it or not I've been making myself a sweater. If you've followed for any length of time you know that my track record is horrible in this regard. Most times (okay every time) I sit down and start making myself a sweater it morphs into something else. Or many somethings else. But this one looks to be a keeper. I have no other plans for the yarn and if truth be told, that's probably the only thing that will save this sweater's life.

I was worried for a moment when I got to the point I am now, thinking it wouldn't fit, but luckily knitting from the top down affords me the chance to try it on during construction. It's perfect. It's perfectly, perfect. Color, fit, size, where the shoulders hit me, everything. Now if I can just find the time to finish it we'll be getting somewhere. And then maybe I'll figure out just what it is that's been holding me back for so long.

Crazy or lazy?

2010-07-21T08:48:00.004-04:00

I get up and am out the door early in the summer. Very early. Maybe too early. But it's really the only logical time to go running and walk the dogs when the temperature rises to the upper 90's and low 100's day after day and the humidity feels like a hot, wet, sock wrapped around my lungs.

It seems there is a divide between the early risers and those who'd like to sleep till noon. One half thinks the other is crazy and the other half might think the first are....well, you know. I believe neither to be true. We are who we are and we like what we like for different reasons. Simple as that. The late risers may find their magic in dreams and late nights while the early ones find theirs in the quiet stillness of first daybreak, before the rest of the world wakes up. Somehow I've managed to be an early riser and a late stayer-upper. Maybe that's crazy.

Whatever side of the fence you're on, whatever judgement you may cast on the other group (or not), whether you like steak or tofu, it really doesn't matter. All I know is there is a very brief time in the morning when the sun glows red and the birds are more noticeable than ever that I find a little magic. That dream-like, almost awake, hazy state of mind that when confronted with a sunrise over a country barn makes me glad I didn't miss it.

Thinking about...

2010-07-15T07:05:00.009-04:00

Today I'm thinking about little yellow dinghies,

sunbleached oystershells in driveways

and solitude on the water.

Am I the only one?

Oh, and of course this house and how I might want to make it eventually look something like this, but I'm not obsessing or anything.

Travels

2010-07-14T09:19:00.008-04:00

We recently escaped. Had ourselves a little getaway, to a tiny little town in a remote area that we didn't want to leave. I will avoid boring you with the 178 pictures I took, so I'll just hit some highlights. Afterward, I bet you'll want to visit, or at least will dream up a little weekend away yourselves.

As you may know, we are drawn to the water.

We love old houses, so we stayed in one. I wish my driveway looked like this.

And that I had giant magnolias flanking the house. Seriously, they're huge.

Anyone who can keep their gardens this well tended in the middle of a July drought clearly works herself to the bone. I know.

But what I really fell in love with was this abandoned house. I'm not talking a little love, I mean I fell in LOVE with this house. Instantly. Head over heels. I want to move in tomorrow. I want to strip it down to the bare floors and windows and paint the walls white. It would be my dream weekend getaway, we'd sleep on the floors for a while, barely add any furniture, have the basics only and canoes, bikes, kayaks, long summer days. Sigh.

I had a favorite boathouse too. It rained a couple of times while we were there and the family would gather on the benches under its cover and watch the storms come in. It's the little things a place like this makes you remember.

Of course there were the sailboats.

The one in the middle below was from Topeka, KS. I thought that was funny.

The green of the grass gets me.

The houses were old and spread far from one another.

I'll be back to visit the hundred and some odd year old lighthouse. The water was too rough to go all the way there, the sun was setting with not enough time for us to climb to the top, but we will be back. We'll go to the top and I'll try not to think about scary movies when we do.

Isn't it hard to plan a trip away? It is. It is. Especially when there are kids and you leave them behind. But each time we do it we are reminded how important it is to remember what we are, what we used to be, what we can be still, even in the midst of crazy, busy, life.

Getting it right

2010-07-05T20:38:00.007-04:00

I used to think I had to do everything right. Exactly right. No mistakes, no half-way, no sort-of, mediocre or almost. It applied to everything. Grades, housework, raising children, running a business, taking pictures, knitting, being a wife, work, everything. Well, actually I guess I still think that way, but it has taken having children to get me to lighten up a little. (thank goodness)

Case in point: trying to take their picture. The recently toothless, the tan, with dirty black feet, all three. It's a lesson in futility.

At least it was last night while waiting for the fireworks display, which was great, by the way, and even impressive for this small town. And as I sat and watched the lights and listened to the booms and looked at the awed expressions on my children's faces, I have to admit I wondered how there was still money (in this small town) for fireworks when every other budget seems to be getting slashed to the core. Specifically the schools but heck, even the dump is now closed one day a week and there hasn't been an animal at the animal shelter in years, I guess they leave that responsibility up to the private groups.

When I let my mind wander to all these things I usually end up thinking I don't know what's right anymore. Or maybe it's just that there isn't only one right. Maybe fireworks have something that's intangible that we still need. Maybe they're the reminder that life goes on even when times are hard, that there is still a community that can come together for celebration, for children (mine) running themselves silly playing tag and hide-and-seek and ending up in a giggling pile all over themselves on a blanket spread out on the Fourth of July.

Maybe they help us remember that all of life is important, especially from the viewpoint of a child. I know that in years to come my children won't look back and remember the shady dealings of politicians and public figures, but I know they'll have dreamy recollections of hot summer nights, barefoot in the crispy grass during a July drought catching fireflies and watching fireworks. At least that's what I remember.

The state of things

2010-06-23T08:31:00.007-04:00

I've come to realize that we're the kind of family who sees the good in things other people might not. You have an old farmhouse kitchen island that needs some TLC and a new home? We're just the ones to take it in. Don't want your old riding lawnmower that won't run? Go Kart that needs serious repairs? Minibike? Generator? '57 Chevy? Oh yes, we have all of those rejects, the last ones of course go straight to my husband and somehow in very short order are running and functioning probably better than ever before. Well, all except for the car, that's still in a million pieces in the barn, but if I know my husband it will run one day.

But the biggest surprise so far, hands down, is this exceptional, fantastic, smart-as-a-whip border collie we were given. They didn't want him. He didn't fit their family, he had a few little quirks, needed a little structure, a schedule, a fence, walks on a leash, a buddy and a family to love him no matter what. He found us, pure and simple and things are better than ever.

And when you hear the old cliche that opposites attract, I give you proof in the form of dogs.

First, we have Sunny. While she looks quite regal in this next photo, just about everything she does reminds me of the first dog encountered in the movie, "UP". Have you seen it? Well, there's this slightly dense and goofy dog in the movie who is nothing but a wiggly, jiggly, perpetually happy mess.

Sunny: "You have ball? You want me to chase? I chase ball, I bring you ball. (wiggling) You have ball? You want me to chase? (runs into me) I chase ball, I bring you ball, I lick you all over face. I love you. You have ball?"

You get the picture.

And then we have Quill who sits gently at your feet, looks straight up into your eyes with deep concentration and attention.

Quill: "Would you like me to reorganize your kitchen cabinets for you? I'd be happy to. You say your checking account needs balancing? I'm your man."

Goofy and the guard dog.

The licker and the listener.

Puppy and Prince.

Luckily, opposites attract.

And even highly trained dogs can let loose every once in a while. With the proper incentive.

A match made in heaven for sure.

Still at it

2010-06-16T09:35:00.004-04:00

Little by little I manage to make more. The summer schedule will hopefully be conducive to more creative time than the school year when time at home is consumed by homework, a schedule to adhere to and a zillion things happening all at once. It is so nice to be able to slow down, even if just for a bit.

Here are some new variations on the familiar theme of simple, yet intricate summer neckwear. They can be found here and here. Enjoy.

Going, going, gone

2010-06-13T21:03:00.009-04:00

Life has officially hit warp speed. The fifteen year reunion of my PT class this past weekend was a clear reminder. Fifteen years, I can hardly believe it and I wonder where I've been. You laugh but it crosses my mind. Where was I when the younger me crossed the stage and snatched the diploma vowing never, ever to go to school again, ever?

Where was I when marriage swept me away, when we renovated one, then a second house and had three kids all right in a row? Am I really that same girl who worked here and there and then took a break for 9 years so I could manage the kid circus that life had become?

"Time will fly" we've heard a thousand times from a thousand people who have gone before us. We learn from them that we'll blink and our kids will be grown and married and before we know it we'll be grandparents and we can hardly believe they're right when we're in the middle of diapers and pregnant bellies and exhaustion and sleepless nights.

I don't know if they're right because I'm not that quite far along yet, but what I think at this point is that there must be a part of us that is timeless. We hold all the information as if it just happened yesterday but the circumstances that we find ourselves in and pictures that fill our keepsake boxes remind us otherwise.

Our children who once crawled are now swimming, doing multiplication, reading long books and winning art awards. They play songs on the piano and write diaries, develop strong friendships and suffer sometimes too. And each year that my son hits baseballs farther than the last I mark the passage of time, knowing that one day they will sail over the fence in the outfield. When they do we will cheer and shine, knowing that the goal was achieved and that while he runs the bases and touches home, that he is well on his way, away.

Come sail away

2010-06-05T19:56:00.009-04:00

It might start to look like I have a thing for sailboats.

But really it's just that the sailboats have a thing for this place.

Urbanna.

Can't believe neither of us had ever been here before. I have an excuse, but my Virginia boy does not. I think we'll be back.

And one day you may find that we've sold everything and run away, or rather sailed away on something like this.

But if we don't do that I'd really like to live in something that looks a little like this.

So we can watch these all day.

And walk up the hill holding hands to have lunch at our new favorite little place.

It was a good, good anniversary.

Farmhouse decorating

2010-06-05T19:49:00.004-04:00

I'm so far past overdue for some "post addition" pictures that it's pretty pathetic. I just have one little update for you, that rescued piece of furniture the man of the house brought home a while back.

Looks pretty good, don't cha think? Not going to repaint it but I might give that thingy on the wall above it a little spray of black. That'll be right after I paint all three kids' rooms. (she chuckles to herself)

As fate allows

2010-06-04T15:52:00.007-04:00

This is the story of a boy,

and a girl.

He loved her from the start.

She loved him right back but there was a problem.

There was a fence between them.

Still he came to see her, the 1/2 mile jaunt through the woods from his house to hers as often as he could muster.

And he would stay.

She would revel in every minute.

And wait for him to come back.

Until one day,

he finally became a part of the family.

Meet Quill, the best little adoptee anyone could hope for.

Bloom time

2010-05-25T19:42:00.006-04:00

I have a black thumb. I promise. Used to be I couldn't keep a houseplant alive to save my life. I even almost killed the "impossible to kill" plant my mother-in-law gave me when we got married. It was a cutting from her plant which had started as a cutting from her mother's plant when she got married some thirty-odd years prior to that. Oh, it was one I couldn't kill but almost did. I'm happy to say it's alive and well now and I'm determined to keep it's legacy going.

So I got better at paying attention to the plants around me with that same self-determination that allowed me to teach myself to knit, crochet, cook, bake, not kill some important things and learn to grow others. It helped that I landed on an old farm with it's rich black soil and so many long-lived plantings all around. Despite my ineptitude at gardening they just kept on growing or coming back every year if I did something wrong or the dog trampled them to death.

It was that forgiveness if you will that alleviated my fear of planting, growing and possibly killing what I put in the ground. I learned that not every dead plant was my fault and that plants are some of the most forgiving living things you can involve yourself with. All you have to do is pay a little attention to what they need and respond accordingly.

I'm no perfect gardener still, mind you. I've given up on competing with my Martha Stewart-esque mother-in-law who lives next door and my other neighbor who is a horticulturalist/landscape architect whose work is pictured every few years in Southern Living Magazine (you think I'm joking but I'm not). I'm clearly outdone. My yard, to quote my husband, "Has bits of beauty in it but then it looks like napalm went off every so often." He's referring to the deep chasms dug by the dog and her propensity toward making beds in my lilies. I just laugh and keep on planting, realizing that not everything is in my control, really hardly anything is.

All I know is I'm usually surprised by the garden. Depending on the weather, where I put things and how much attention I pay them, some things have their best year ever. This year goes to the clematis, that no matter which direction you look at it from,

is just one big cascade of purple goodness.

Winter knitting

2010-05-22T16:11:00.005-04:00

saturday
sitting in the nook
listening to the steady pour of rain
knitting up some special orders
some off-season winter knitting

big pink scarf
baby sweater
hat
booties
necklaces

searching for the right dog to adopt
watching movies
thinking about the morning's baseball game
hoping to see a rainbow later
happy lazy Saturday

the nook

2010-05-20T21:58:00.005-04:00

I feel like a kid again who found a secret hideout. Like when I used to make forts out of sheets strung across the furniture all taped and tied up any which way. Or when I'd climb a tree or play in the attic or crawl down to the end of my sleeping bag with a flashlight and a book.

There's something special about small places with walls, windows or fabric all around. It feels different, it sounds different and the sense of protection, safety and even annonymity is undeniable.

This place is for knitting, or reading, taking pictures (as you've seen), helping with homework, having long talks, or just daydreaming. I've been wanting my own nook, I just didn't know it. Thanks to my special nook-maker I now have one. I hope you do too.

Give a girl a camera

2010-05-17T16:39:00.006-04:00

And if that girl happens to be your 13 year old niece,

or your 11 year old one,

you'll never know what you'll get.

But these two surprise me every time.

(okay, so I did a little editing, but still!)

New

2010-05-15T20:47:00.005-04:00

As summer fast approaches and the wardrobe shifts to open necklines and unconstrained clothing, so increases my jewelry selection. Perhaps the best thing about making jewelry is that I have an ever-changing personal collection.

I make, I pass on, I give, I sell, I re-make. I couldn't be happier.

If you're looking for simple, these pieces fit the bill. Any of them. But you can't get more pared down or easy going than my basic black. It goes with practically anything. Or, at least that's how I wear it.

The view from above

2010-05-15T20:27:00.011-04:00

Recipe for a perfect Friday afternoon:

1. 85 degrees and sunny
2. pack up the boat and children
3. grab sandwiches on the way
4. go to the river (the close one)
5. hang out

6. draw
7. read
8. catch fish (just the boys this time)

9. knit a little

10. knit some more

11. throw everything in the catchall family bag upon hearing thunder

12. fall asleep to a Spring thunderstorm

I can think of so many reasons why this is the start to my favorite time of year.

Raining

2010-05-11T16:21:00.006-04:00

I welcomed the rain today which is odd for me because I usually don't. I like to take the dog for a walk in the afternoons or go for a run or do anything but sit inside. But today we needed the rain. Me and the grass.

It's a good day for sitting and making and reading the latest magazine to come in the mail, from which I found stereomood.com. I first tried picking my mood but the music didn't match, so then I tried picking the music and found out what mood I was in. Let's just say it wasn't "raining".

And if you're wondering why I didn't post anything to commemerate Mother's Day let me just tell you I thought about it, but anything I was about to say just didn't do it for me, so I figured it was better to be quiet. If you really want something to speak to you about motherhood, just click here. If you're a mom you'll know exactly what I mean. If you're not one, it'll make you want to become one. Enjoy the rain.

Unlike the flower petal

2010-05-06T19:29:00.005-04:00

.....Bend sideways, reach to the ceiling, hips to the left, arms to the right, like the flower petal opening....

That's what she says, or at least something to that effect at my local Bikram Yoga class. It's a script they follow, every class the same 26 postures in a room kept somewhere around 107 degrees, but my body responds differently each and every time I go.

Only today I was nothing like the flower petal and came out more like a lame horse midway through the class at which point I was sure one of my hamstrings had torn completely off it's insertion. It was far from lovely.

And as I hobble, sit on ice, take ibuprofen and gently move and stretch I'm concerned with only one thing. Will I be able to make it to the next class? Oh yes my friends, this could definitely become a new obsession.

For the adventurous and slightly crazy among you who have no fear of heat, perspiration and doing yoga next to a sixty-something gentleman who blows his nose, cleans his ears with Q-tips and looks to have spent his life up until that point at the bottom of a whiskey bottle (I get stuck next to him every time), I say go for it.

Meet the boyfriend

2010-05-03T19:40:00.005-04:00

I'm not quite sure who's more smitten, me...

or Sunny.

When Quill showed up a few months ago I secretly hoped he was in need of a home and found out that he's just in need of a home with a little more going on. I worked hard on tracking down his owner and (unfortunately) did. Not that the owner is a problem, but rather I was really thinking he would be the perfect addition to the family and a fantastic playmate for Sunny, but kidnapping someone else's dog is not my style. We just borrow him.

He comes to visit whenever he can, traveling about a half mile through the woods and fields from his home, our distant neighbor. I'm pretty sure he smelled poultry and was on the prowl for some female companionship and hit the jackpot.

He plays with the kids, practically falling over to be petted and loved when they approach. He goes for jaunts in the backyard with Sunny and sleeps on our porch. He used to terrify the chickens but after just one scolding he now keeps his distance. So smart. Except he smells like skunk just about every other visit.

He had a brief encounter with the lawnmower, trying to attack it so we put him in the fence when there's cutting going on, the kids would be scarred for life if he were to have an accident. I have dreams that his owners will for some unforseen circumstance need to find him a home, our home. But for now I'll have to be content with him helping me take pictures of peonies.

That's how it's supposed to taste

2010-05-01T19:04:00.017-04:00

The farmers market is open again and not a moment too soon. Before we dug into these strawberries my son said, "Man, they're small."

"Just taste them," I said.

"Mmmmmm! These are so good."

"That's how they're supposed to taste," I explained.

I find myself saying that quite a bit when I take the time and plan what we're eating and try to make the most healthy decisions possible, buying fresh and buying local when possible. We're already spoiling ourselves with fresh eggs from our chickens which are completely different from what you can buy in a store, even if the label says organic or free range. Really, there's just no comparison to the color, consistency and most of all taste. Bake with them and you'll immediately see and taste the difference. But you really can't just take my word for it, you'll have to try it yourself.

So why not scout out your local farmer's market this season? If you're not sure where to start, try these helpful websites: Local Harvest, where you can find the producers in your area directly, the markets they serve and even your local CSAs where you can feel like part of the farm and even have their goods year round, not just during market season. Or try the Buy Fresh Buy Local Guide serving your region. This link happens to be for Virginia, but with a little searching I'm sure you can find information for your state.

You may or may not see the merit in this post, ever, or maybe one day you will. Mabe one day when you're nearing 40 or 50 or 60 and your husband has a miserable stomach ache and rolls over and tells you that if he has another Diet Mountain Dew he thinks it will kill him. Instantly. Maybe that will be the impetus you need for change. Or maybe you're 10 steps ahead of us, already eating well, taking care of yourself and being smart about what goes into your body because you see and feel the positive change. If you're one of those folks, share your wisdom with us, please. I for one can use all the help I can get.

But for now it's baby steps in this house. At least I have a captive audience and a husband and children who will eat what I serve. As long as the Pop Tarts and chips are less prominent and found less frequently on the grocery list, and I take the time to really plan my menus, I think we're on the right track.

Speaking of flowers

2010-04-28T19:31:00.006-04:00

I took the girls to the hospital with me tonight to listen to a presentation while the boys went to baseball practice. It was better this way, really, I'd be able to get them home at a decent time and showered and ready for bed before they turned into pumpkins or over-tired, fighting, spaghetti noodles. The only obstacle would be keeping them occupied, distracted and above all else quiet for over an hour. Sounds simple until you have children and then you instantly know all the pitfalls and many unimaginable ones that can occur in such a scenario.

It was officially medical, complete with a power point presentation, a doctor speaking, tons of medical terminology, medical professionals in attendance, the whole nine yards, all of us learning or re-learning about the pitfalls of bone growing in unexpected and unwanted places in the body after certain traumas and what to do about it. Yeah, I really deal with this stuff.

And just when you think that what you do is important (because it is), reality hits. I looked over and my youngest was about to whack my middle child in the head with the yo-yo she'd brought. A few minutes later I had to get her to turn down the Jackson Five's "ABC" on her ipod and stop her from wriggling to the beat. Then there was a big debate over dessert, who would get it and when and what it would be. Shoes, sweaters, bags, books, papers and bodies were strewn about on the floor and just then my youngest handed me a piece of paper.

She had drawn a flower. Very basic. There was writing at the top, complete with a few backwards "A's" and a number or two. It said:

1. I like the flower.
2. I am the flower.
3. The flower ran away.
4. The End.

There it is in a nutshell. The complex and precarious situation of what it means to be a mother with her brain in so many places all at once. Wanting to be in all of them, not wanting to neglect any of them, but having to stop and chuckle about the basic reality and simple truth that is offered to us by our children. If I were her, I'd have wanted to turn into a flower and run away too. I'm sure of it.

Off the hook

2010-04-24T09:03:00.006-04:00

I often wonder just what my kids will remember from their childhoods. They already remember so much more than I think they do or think they should and from a much younger age. But where things like the 7 years carting 3 overlapping children back and forth from preschool made quite the indelible impression in my mind, I find that my kids hardly remember those days. It makes me wonder if our focus was at times misplaced.

But it's these lazy afternoons in the middle of the week when Daddy takes the afternoon off, takes them fishing and they catch us a fresh fish dinner from a nearby pond that I know they will remember for some time to come.

He has their full attention. They learn how to bait a hook, cast a line and how to hold a wriggling, wet, slimy fish and even take it off the hook.

They recount these experiences to anyone who will listen, including their entire classes respectively. But preschool is nothing more than a fading memory, or something like a dream where they're not really sure if it happened at all.

Thank you

2010-04-21T16:11:00.007-04:00

This post is for the co-workers that stop me in the rehab gym and tell me they read my blog the night before. It's for the others who tell me they want every necklace they see me wear. It's for my new friends, old friends, work friends, unknown-never-to-be-met friends who tell me they faithfully read.

It's for my husband, his grandmother, my in-laws, my brother-in-law, his girlfriend (can I say that yet?), and the extended family who also read this ramble.

It's for the friends I know who help promote and for the friends I don't know who surprise with their accolades. And of course for my customers, new, repeat and wannabes, I'm grateful for you all.

You get the point. It's for all of you out there who don't have to read but for your own separate reasons still do. It's for the ones who call me 'artist' and 'creative', I thank you all and am so happy that you keep coming to visit.

As I have nothing more, today I'll leave you with some of the latest uploads to my shop. In order they are barely yellow, simple silver and early purple, this last one made specifically for Sheila and named after my earliest blooming and oldest country iris that look so pretty right now. Maybe tomorrow I'll show them to you.

One man's junk

2010-04-18T20:33:00.005-04:00

"I saw it and thought you could use it to make jewelry on," he said. "They were taking it to the dump so I put it in the back of the truck. It came out of an old church parsonage."

This from the man who has been known to tell me he doesn't like a house full of "hodge podge" furniture.

I just kept quiet, doing little leaps up and down inside where no one could see. This is the stuff that belongs in a farmhouse after all, and being the family that rescues old buildings, animals and even a soul or two, I'm sure it will have no trouble fitting right in with the rest of the hodge and the podge.

It has an enamel top that pulls out, was obviously used in the kitchen and is even on casters and the wheels are made of wood. I wonder what Country Living Magazine could tell me about it if I sent them pictures? I'm sure there would be some great story and they'd tell me it was really old but that it was worth $50 due to it's few structural issues.

Oh well, I'm sure we can salvage it, the man can do the structural repairs and I can do a whole lot of scraping, cleaning and painting before we bring it in. Trouble is it's too big for my office, it'll probably end up in a hallway somewhere, or the mudroom, who knows.

But I leave you with the takeaway message in all of this, that lies in the fact that people that you think you know really well will still surprise you from time to time. Be happy when they do and thankful too. And, sometimes the most thoughtful gifts don't come pre-planned or in pretty packages wrapped up with bows. At times they're disguised beneath decades old peeling paint, on wooden wheels and just a little bit broken.

Just right

2010-04-15T22:03:00.007-04:00

It was one of those days where I knew at the end a walk around with my camera would do me some good. I won't run down the list for you of what my day entailed up until that point because we are all busy and I'm sure you don't need my stress on top of your own.

We are all moving from the minute our feet hit the floor until we park ourselves at the end of each and every very long day. At least most of the people I know live this way and it's up to us to self-impose some time-outs.

Sometimes I walk around imagining myself as a 99 year old woman, looking back, telling a story to someone, anyone who will listen.

"That was when we lived in an old farmhouse," I'd say, "we gutted it from top to bottom, kept it from falling to the ground, built it back up strong and new. We had three kids there and added on and vowed to care for what we were given. After all, we knew it wasn't really, only, ours."

The green looks more green when I daydream,

the barn changes every time I see it,

the kids do what they naturally do,

and I know it won't last forever. But I try on these walks to soak in every last bit of it. To make it part of me, to make memories instead of flying by life so fast and calling myself productive.

So I save the lilacs and plant more peonies. I spread lilies around the outskirts and know that they'll root themselves. I give the iris their room and replant them as well, knowing that old Mrs. Webster probably planted the original ones well before I was born. There is history here. I can feel it. It reminds me and humbles me when I know that this life isn't all about me. I like that.

Currently reading, not knitting

2010-04-11T19:29:00.007-04:00

I'm reading this book now which is pretty good for me considering the fact that when I discovered knitting I all but stopped reading books. Entirely. But the books are creeping back onto the shelves and I'm thankful for their return. I don't read anything and everything anymore like I used to, no, now I want the books I read to mean something to me. To make me think, to inspire me to take a closer look at the way I do things or the way I don't do things or to consider doing things I'd never considered before. I sound like a book snob, I know.

Luckily, I stumbled upon this one. I mentioned it a while back and gave you a link where you can hear an exerpt. For those who didn't click on it before or for those who want to hear it again, here it is.

As I read I'm constantly wondering if I know what the author means, if I really even understand any of what she's trying to say, but when my throat closes up with a big lump and I have chills all over I know it means something to my life, but I'm not yet sure just what. Yet.

All I really know is what occurred to me today after reading a few chapters while I was changing into my running clothes. She says in some sort of way that you must tend to what you want to see flourish. You must give it attention, as the sun gives the garden, day in day out, without fail, without complaint, because that's it's job. It's an easy concept to comprehend and even one I thought I was doing a pretty good job of, toward my kids, toward my husband, toward the house, the laundry, my job, the dog and yes, even the garden.

But what occurred to me is that I also have to tend to me. I need to give myself attention. This isn't what you might automatically think, especially if you watch shows like "What Not to Wear" and "Oprah" and the like (by the way, I like those shows, no offense). I'm not saying I need more pedicures (I've never had one in my life), or more "me" time, or girls weekends or shopping or spa treatments.

Rather, it's what happens in the quiet moments inside my head, during and in between the homework and the housework and the work work and the rest of it that I could improve upon. It's the messages I'm sending myself that need tweaking, it's the inside me that needs tending to.

If you get the book it's worth the read, I promise. I plan on starting it over just as soon as I finish.

Smile, it's Saturday

2010-04-10T09:35:00.006-04:00

Spring wakes me up and I find the urge to start making more jewelry. I'm a casual sort of girl that likes t-shirts, jeans, flowy skirts and flip-flops and these simple necklaces seem to fit. I wear them constantly because they're easy, comfortable, simple yet intricate and I can change them whenever the urge hits and I often do.

I've added this new one to the shop.

And the next one was added yesterday and sold in just a few hours. I love it when that happens.

I was under contstant supervision during the photo shoot.

Happy Saturday!

Job hopping

2010-04-08T15:06:00.006-04:00

Growing up I had a friend whose mom seemed to change careers every few years. She started out as a nurse, then became a full time mom of three and dabbled in photography for a bit, art, then real estate, back to nursing and then eventually retirement.

I don't know if she could never make up her mind, if she didn't really need to work, or if she just had so many different interests that she flip-flopped from one profession to another. Whatever the case, I think of her as I flit from one thing to the next, often overlapping all three of my supposed jobs.

One is serious and bona fide career, the next is motherhood and the last has sprouted from a hobby, and the near necessity of giving my brain a creative outlet not related to anything but just that.

So please enjoy some recent additions to the shop. First we have garnet and glass followed by pinkish and finally red raspberry. And then you'll please excuse me while I go nurse allergies, a bloody nose, do laundry, tend to the weeds, plant the new rosebushes and peonies, water the grass and line up playdates, all while I take a "break" from my real job. Happy working everyone, I hope you enjoy what you do.

Get Lost

2010-04-06T19:04:00.004-04:00

While I may think I know where I'm going, that I have at least some of the answers, and that my life is on the right track, time away usually reminds me that I could use some improvement. A rut forms when we go through the same paces without time for contemplation, for an alternate tempo, different scenery, new relationships. Slowing down and changing the channel for a time is the only way to really see, to hear, to listen, enjoy, embrace, think, sleep, eat, feel.

And while the idea of getting permanently lost is tempting,

I realize that it isn't necessary,

that "to do" lists aren't terrible,

but they certainly aren't everything, and that putting them down for a time makes them easier to come back to. And when we do come back, we can see them from a new angle and with priorities straight.

My kids often ask me why we (humans) have to go to sleep. Bedtime isn't a favorite of theirs as it interferes so with play and other important things like more play. But it isn't just sleep that without which we would all lose our minds, but it is rest as well that we all really, honestly, cannot live normally without.

So I hope you too can find the time, here and there, to sneak away and come back better than ever.

I've added it it to my new "to do" list.

Heavy on the white

2010-04-02T20:31:00.007-04:00

We've gone from green to yellow to white all in what seems like just a few days. No matter how long it's been, there's no mistaking the feeling that accompanies Spring.

Doors and windows open, baseballs popping in the front yard, training wheels and jump ropes on the gravel, the blur of the hula hoop and the sweet, sweet smell of the plum trees. The bees know it, so do the groundhogs who've come out and the 10 or so deer that graze through the young wheat fields each evening all around the house.

My eldest has climbed aboard the riding lawn mower and is now in charge of the backyard, under close supervision from Dad and the dog. My youngest has taken big brother's place at the chicken coop with her sister. Allowances all around.

I dig up and transplant the young lilac shoots and watch the peonies begin to pop up, red through the dirt. Ferns hang from the porch and flowers again grace the porch steps. It's a welcome wake up from the cold, the snow and rain. Slowly we thaw and open to the sun.

Just like the flowers.

Old favorites

2010-03-29T19:39:00.008-04:00

I've had quite a few local requests lately about my jewelry, if I'm going to sell at the market again this summer, if the jewelry can be found on my website, etc. etc. I used to rely on the market as an easy way to show my pieces without having to spend the hours it takes to photograph them halfway decently and then load them into my Etsy shop.

But I've decided not to sell at the market this summer and so my online shop becomes the central place to showcase my wares. The decision is bittersweet but most definitely the right one for me, for the family. And, the best part is I get to go to the market just for the fun of visiting and purchasing all the good stuff that it has to offer.

So I'm experiencing what a joy it is all over again to be model and photographer, editor and shop owner, copywriter. Taking also into account the fact that I hate (yes hate) having my picture taken the whole process is a laugh.

But here you have the first two, my little red raspberry

and cherry blossom.

So please enjoy and stay tuned for coming attractions. I may be auditioning new models soon, we'll see how much of myself I can take.

Yellow (quiet) riot

2010-03-25T17:36:00.007-04:00

It's everywhere. Finally and thank goodness. It has me thinking about windows open, airing out, taking out the garbage and starting back at the beginning. One deep breath and a simple reminder and I'm making big plans to do nothing. To slow down, read a book, dig up some weeds. It couldn't come at a better time, but then Spring always does.

Blink

2010-03-20T20:00:00.008-04:00

"Yes" I say when people ask if the time has gone by fast. Yes, I can hardly remember the early days but at the same time it feels like yesterday when I was waddling my way into the doctor's office for what would be my final pregnancy visit with her.

"Nothing's happening" I was assured, her due date was still 10 days out, but less that 12 hours later she was in my arms, my Spring baby, all 8 1/2 pounds of her. A bright, fun-loving dreamer with a penchant for storytelling, hamming it up and somehow enough empathy for the world. The best part is just watching her do her thing, the most important is not getting in her way.

Almost

2010-03-15T16:49:00.007-04:00

It's coming. The snow has finally melted off the winter wheat revealing curved rows and black dirt. The cherry tree is showing signs of life,

and the lilacs,

daffodils,

the mystery bush I can never identify,

flowering quince,

and even the dog. If only I could start to unbundle my layers I'd really feel like Spring was coming.

It's all good

2010-03-11T15:04:00.006-05:00

driving with the sunroof open wide
70 degree days
listening to favorite songs like
this one
and this one
and this
because it's that kind of day

the feeling of gratitude
of being watched over
led
protected

hearing my husband tell me to have a good day off
to slow down
not worry about getting it all done
to enjoy myself

thankful every day
that I'm involved in the human side of healthcare
holding a hand
sharing a tear
a laugh
a story

knowing that between all the good
and the bad
that I've landed in the right place
somehow.

Back in business

2010-03-06T08:19:00.005-05:00

It was the kind of week where if one thing went wrong a thousand little other things went wrong as well. We've had a bit of technology overhaul around here and though I tend to cringe the whole way through and hope we're making the right decisions, it sure it nice when it's all said and done. From the computer to the cell phones, DVR box to the kitchen sink, kids research projects, school conferences, birthday parties, and even baby tooth pulling to make way for the adult ones coming in, it certainly hasn't been a dull week around here.

All the while I'm reeling thinking of how different our lives are now than just a few short years ago. Back then I was one of those people who didn't check email but once every week or two, used my cell phone only in cases of emergency, had no idea what a "text" was and had children who were happy playing in the dirt. Well, I guess they are still happy playing in the dirt, but they've become quickly aware of what itunes are, how to do anything and everything with a wii and can surf the web which is a scary thought especially when my son is looking up "how to make lego bricks" on youtube.com and "how to kiss" pops up in the search window. Great at age 9.

At any rate, we're slowly putting the necessary information from our old computer onto the new one and so my pictures are currently dormant in a little electronic box that sits next to the computer, ready to be transferred over. So please enjoy the little green shoots above from last Spring. I think we can all use a little visual prompting to really get us in the mood for Spring. Given that it's supposed to be in the 60's here today I know I'll be pining away for more nice weather and hopefully I'll be walking about with my camera in hand.

Time out

2010-03-02T16:38:00.004-05:00

My computer is sick. It's been away for several days now and although we've missed it I've managed to survive and realize it isn't a necessity, but I've also come to realize how much we rely on it for the simplest of things.

Going to the library to print out my shipping labels for Etsy orders is a bit time consuming, so is helping the kids with school projects. I get my work assignment every evening by email so I've resorted to checking email on the wii which I never knew was possible but have come to be an expert at it. That it can be done at all this way is remarkable, I guess it's evident I'm still in the Atari mindset.

So you'll have to settle for a photo I took at the end of March last year, I hope it will suffice. I took it just before I bought my new camera and figured it was worth a second go around. It really should only be another day until the machine is fixed, barring any major issues (let's hope there are no major issues). The kids will be happy for me to leave the wii alone, typing emails on it is seriously laborious!

Rain and cake

2010-02-22T19:38:00.006-05:00

dressed to get wet, I put on my running shoes
borrowed my son's ipod
flew
4.5 miles instead of my usual 3
left the dog behind and didn't feel guilty
this time it was for me
listened to this song on repeat
and flew
felt free
felt the rain sprinkling against my face
and watched it drip drip from my hat
heard my shoes slush in the mud and leftover snow
began to build back up what had slowly been torn down
me
self-worth
strength
peace
stopped apologizing for everything
dropped it all right there
the weight of the world
and felt free
and flew
and celebrated with my chocolate cake

Princess for a day

2010-02-21T16:26:00.008-05:00

It's hard being the youngest. I was the youngest of only two (which probably isn't so terrible) so I don't really know how much harder it is to be the youngest of three but she does. So when big brother has baseball camp and a friend over and then tryouts, and big sister has a friend over and she doesn't, my mom gene kicks in and I know it's time for some one on one.

We made a homemade chocolate cake. We straightened her hair, put on makeup and did our nails. We decided a veil was the best accesory. Then we drew and listened to pandora in my studio with the light streaming in the windows. I'd just gotten a wild hair to clean them. Only happens once a year.

And in short order, she went from angelic princess,

to herself.

Which,

is a little more

dramatic

and silly.

Sometimes we adults need the special treatment too. What we don't realize when we set out to make someone else's day better, is that we end up making our own better at the exact same time.

But if there's no one else around, and your day hasn't been brightened by others around you, call a good friend and then buy yourself some flowers. Really. Today's choice was live tulips. I needed a double dose of happiness.