handstories

last stitches

    The last word of "2015," stitched just before 2015's last midnight.

    A year.

    There is much of it that is gone from memory.

    From a few steps back . . . a blur of cloth and thoughts.  Scraps.

flowers & dreams & cloth

    "It's time," I said on Christmas morning, and throughout the day, to the paperwhite a friend had gifted a few weeks ago, and just before midnight, it listened and popped out the first peak of flowers.

    And then came dreams of the "2015" cloth.  Of writing the word "more" and then "incandescent" on top of it.  So, this morning, I did.

    We are off to see famly in Oregon tomorrow.  Back in a couple of days.

emergent curriculum

    Reading Group:  (after getting all four of them to come to the table, with their books, and to settle down, and stop looking at each other).  We read along fine enough for the first few minutes, and then . . .

    ". . . he was at his wits end . . . "

    "What does that mean?"

            Well, . . .

    "Is it like the end of a story?"

    "Are we at the end of the book?"

        No.  When he says he's at his wits end, it means . . .

    "He was being stupid."

    "You're being stupid."

            Hey, let's focus on the book.  Being at your "wits end" means feeling really frustrated and you don't know what to do . . ."

    "This book is stupid."

    And down the hill we all went in a matter of seconds.  It was longer and faster than I've described here, and ridiculous.  I gave up using words and just sat there, trying.  Trying to think of the magic words that would get us all back on track.  Nothing.   But then . . .

    "Look at her face!"

    "It's all red-ed up!"

    "She's at her wits end!"

    "Shhhh!"

            Yes, I am, and none of you want to see the end of my wits.  

            Let's read.

    And we did.  I'm counting this one as a win.

    Note to self:  Keep your wits about you.

layering

With tea.

With self.

With "uncertainty".

reprieve

    On Monday, K took the day off (bless him), and we headed up to Guemes Island for the day.

    There was gathering,

    playing,

    walking,

    learning of a new word  (palimpsest "1. writing material, used one or more times after earlier writing has been erased.  2.  something having usually diverse layers or aspects apparent beneath the surface."),

    sky watching,

    building,

    and tomorrow, a week and a day late, school will start for the 53,000 students of Seattle.  Thank the stars.  

rumpled

    There is a lot going on and nothing much at all, both at once . . .  life.  There has been marathon knitting for a belated birthday gift.  

    Lots of blue stitches across Blue's quilt, that require no thinking, allowing time to appreciate the sensation of needle and thread going through cloth.  Knowing that seventeen year old Blue would rather have a store bought plain blanket, but hoping that future Blue will appreciate these wonky lines.

    A marking of the center, so that I don't get completely lost, while navigating relationships and expectations.

    A wondering if the boys will start school tomorrow, due to the pending teacher's strike.   A not knowing of whether or not I will have a job for a couple more weeks, due to other public school issues.  

    Last night I was feeling like a pile of rags.  I was getting out the mental iron to try to flatten myself out and erase the evidence of wanting, neediness, and all of the questions that come with self-doubt.  Instead I decided to stop, to not go there.  

    Next to the bed were the few books I've been going back and forth in lately.  I looked at the good-for-me, self-reflective, enriching stack, and went and pulled out an old sappy young adult novel.

    Maybe I will get to the root of the wrinkles sometime, but for today, not smoothing over them will be enough.  I'm going to curl up with my old story, and just be.

where the river meets the sea

    September makes me so happy.  Always has.  Almost as happy as October.

    We are back from a quick trip to the coast.  There were some very strange parts on the trip, but also some fun and wonderful . . .

    This is what's left of the Peter Iredale, shipwrecked in 1906.

    Wouldn't it be great for the dye pot?

   Blue taught us to play Hearts.  It was a lot of fun, even though I lost magnificently.

    The Astoria–Megler Bridge spans the mouth of the Columbia River.  It is the longest continuous truss bridge in North America.

     Over four miles long, allowing plenty of time to sing "Roll On Columbia".

    We were able to sing through the verses we know twice.

    And there was a tunnel that brought to mind childhood Sunday drives up the Gorge, when we would hold our breaths, with our hands on the car ceiling (in case the tunnel collapsed!), while Dad honked the horn all the way through.  (Yes, I made the guys do the same.)

    Before coming home, we stopped at Cape Disappointment, where the Columbia flows into the Pacific Ocean.  It was grand to see the powerful meeting place of these two big waters.

road trip with cake

        We are on a sort of road trip for Moon's birthday.  His choice, because turning thirteen means you can ride in the front seat!  

    The cake survived the trip to Oregon.  It tasted good, but my cake decorating abilities are another story.  The blame is being placed on the lack of proper tools.  Moon knew that I was going for a moon, so good enough.

    We've visited the Gordon House designed by Frank Lloyd Wright (Moon has an interest in architecture), and the Evergreen Air & Space Museum (where the Spruce Goose resides).  

    Mrs. Gordon was a weaver.  Frank wanted to put the loom in the center of the living area, but her arthritis was growing more painful, and she didn't want people watching her while she wove.  They argued, she won.  He created a small cove upstairs, with her requested view of trees.

    The trip continues for a couple of more days.  We'll end with a few new sights in Portland and a trip to Powell's Bookstore.  We're having a relaxing fun time, but missing Blue!  Four more days until he returns . . . 

    What a strange blurry summer this has been.

things to be happy about

     Limes.

    They helped in the weathering of the latest heat wave.

    K having another birthday and pie (it was worth heating the house up for).  

    A walk through the Japanese Garden.

    Turtles.  What is it about turtles?  They are such calm sweet creatures.

    Last night's evening sky, that led to a breezy cloudy cooler today!

    I hope you all are finding happy moments in your days.

halfway

    Six months of words scattered on this cloth.  Unlike the squares or the spiral of previous years, there isn't really an order to this, other than a working my way down.  I go back and forth with how I feel about that.  Today I'll add more cloth onto the end and cross into the second half of the year.

    And yesterday, she came inside!  We enjoyed a good close daylight look at her, before helping her back outside.  I wonder who she is?