handstories

Being home

    This happened after a little reading about the Hundertwasserhaus.  It's weird and I want to keep going with it.  Wherever that might be.  No idea yet.  It's about home- a place to be in, and the home that is within.  I suppose much of what I make is.

    There has been a lot of self questioning in the last weeks... What I make and why?  Wondering if there's a next to step into?  And what it might be?

    Can comfortable become uncomfortable?  (The "do not repeat" painting actually has nothing at all to do with what I'm talking about...probably.)

    In the meantime, there are moon cabin squares slowly being made.  Another place to live...inside and out.

 

pink skies and silver rain

    Out our window, a week ago at sunset.

    At the same time, across town, K. saw a double rainbow.

    It was a very nice Christmas day.  One of our (my) traditions, is that I go into the living room first, and take a photo of Blue and Moon as they come into the room and see the tree with the filled stockings and gifts below.  Not to be undone by distance, with Blue zooming on the computer, Moon carried Blue on screen in, and I got my photo.  For the next hour, he "sat" next to the tree and we opened gifts, made jokes, and took a group selfie with one of us holding the computer facing the camera.  Technology was the very best gift this year.

    These are the Wise Guys, my favorite childhood ornaments (except for the beautiful glittery glass balls that my brother has).  If you look closely, there is a single silvery strand draped above and over the top right guy.  I took it off of Mom's tree one year.  She called it "rain" and our childhood trees were dripping with it.

    You see what I mean.  My brother and me, 1967. 

    K. was quite concerned when he first saw my family's tree style.  Lucky for him, this single strand of tinsel is enough for me.

    Mom doesn't do a tree anymore, and passed the angel topper on to me.  I remember shopping for it with Mom and Aunt J.  Mom pointed it out on the top shelf, Aunt J., being taller, reached for it and I held it in front of me as I sat in the shopping cart, asking if I thought it was pretty?  I did.  Mom doesn't believe I remember this, because I was only two, but I do.

    This is Christmas Night, after the photo above.  I'm four.  I remember what led to this, too. 

    I had brought my new doll, dollhouse and their boxes into my bedroom.  Crawling into bed with the new doll and the old one (so that she wouldn't feel replaced), I looked at the dollhouse on the floor...  (Here's where I'm going to tell you one of the strange things about me... I have always personified things.  I don't know what this means or says about me, but there it is.)  So, on that night, looking at the dollhouse on the floor, I worried that I was hurting its feelings by not bringing it to bed with me, too.  So, I got up and brought it into the bed, and then returned for the boxes, because how sad for them to be empty and alone on the floor...

Wishing you light✨

    A slow cloth started for Solstice, for light, for hope...a gift to myself.  A Threadcrumb moon, and a rainbow of scraps from Jude, Deb and Tina.

    Everything is as made, baked, wrapped, decorated, and decked as it's going to be.  Now it's time for sitting still and snacking on spritz cookies. 

    A Yahrzeit candle has been lit for Dad.  Tomorrow will be two years.

    The three of us will have a quiet day tomorrow, with some zooming with Blue.  There is much to grateful for here in our little blue house.

    Wishing you all peace, comfort and joy.  With love, Hazel 💙

making, etc.

    There's been making, and seeing this photo blown up, I guess there needs to be some trimming, too.

    And baking.

    Some knitting.

    K. has made two trips to the post office so far for Blue.  I pack the boxes, hiding gifts inside of other gifts to make it all fit into as little space as possible, so that the postage will hopefully not exceed the cost of the contents.

    I found this flannel in the stash, and have made a pillowcase for each of the boys.  Silly, but mamas can get away with that, right?  Actually, it might be scary to Blue.  His grandma gave him a sock monkey when he was a baby.  Just the sight of it would send him into sobs.  I wonder if he'll have flashbacks?

    Still need to make the Spritz cookies, but the tree is up much earlier than usual.  We scurried out to get one early because there's been a shortage here in Seattle for the last two years.  Is that true for anyone else?  It's almost decorated.  The coffee table is covered with unpacked ornaments.  Whenever Moon walks through the room, I call out for him to put another one on the tree.  Maybe it will be finished by Christmas?  

 

Wintering with memories

    Moon's ornament with his favorite blanket scrap. 

    Baby Moon.     K's.  The starry sky cloth was a Christmas gift from him in the middle pregnancy with Blue.  The green was purchased on the day Moon was born.  A friend wanted help making a quilt, so we met at the fabric store.  Contractions were happening, but they had been going on for weeks, so I ignored them...stopping every now and then to clutch the fabric bolts to steady myself until they passed.  Weeks before, I had asked this friend if she would come to the birth, to be with Blue?  Absolutely not was her answer.  She had no interest in seeing a birth.  Ever.  She grew more and more nervous with each contraction, afraid she would be trapped into witnessing Moon's entry into the world.

    "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"  "Shouldn't you call someone?"  "Shouldn't you..."

    Fortunately for her, the quilt fabric was purchased, I bought a yard of this green cloth, and we went our separate ways.  I'm sure she heaved a big sigh of relief in her car!

What I can do...

        Yesterday, after waking up at 4am from fretful nightmares about Blue, I tossed and turned until 5:30 trying to decide whether he should come home for the holidays or not.  There have been so many discussions and debates between the four of us about it.  I finally realized that if it was an ok thing to be doing, it wouldn't be this hard to decide.  What was I thinking?  I am a rule follower.  I should have known that the nagging in the back of my head was not going to go away.  Delirious, I fell back asleep until K. woke up.  We talked it over, and it was decided.  He called Blue, and I cried as I drove myself to the dentist.  (There were several other weepy moments.  Moon was at a bit of a loss during one of the spiraling down episodes.  I heard K. say to him, "Get used to it, this is how it's going to be for a couple of weeks.")

    Last night a friend sympathetically texted, "It sucks to be smart."  It does.

    So, Christmas needs to be mailed to Michigan.  I always make an ornament for each of the guys, and today Blue's was stitched.  The  rosy ground is leftover flannel from his baby blanket.

    It was the very first thing I ever made for a maybe-someday baby, about five years before Blue came along.  Really, I didn't know if I wanted kids, but I did want to practice the recently learned crocheted edging.  When I showed the finished blanket to K. that evening, he worriedly wondered if I was trying to tell him something?  

    "Well, if I am, you'd better start looking a whole lot happier!"

    To his credit, he was ready to have a baby before I was, and beside himself with happiness with each pregnancy.

    We last saw Blue when he was home for the holidays a year ago.  There may be a road trip this spring.  I don't want to miss seeing him be 22. 

    In the meantime, Christmas needs to go in a box.  There are cookies to bake...

Dawdling

    Five years ago, I started knitting these hats and scarves to donate.  It was a way to use up some of my early yarn spinnings and hopefully do a little good in the world.  Well, I didn't get very far, and there was no good done until this week. 

    In an effort to clean up a little (and to avoid doing the things I should've been doing), I came across the bag buried in the corner that they've been living in.  I had got it into my head that ALL of the yarn needed to be knitted up before donating them.  Also, two different friends had made two different suggestions as to where to donate them, meaning I would have to choose between them, or knit more hats, so that there were enough for everybody... Meanwhile, the project went by the wayside, and nobody got wool things.

    But, they were found again, and K. knew of a woman who works at the YWCA, so they were promptly gathered and left on her doorstep.  Sometimes I make myself crazy with trying to do everything, often resulting in doing nothing.  It's good to know they'll finally be useful.  There's still plenty of yarn to knit up, and a new hat has been started.  I wonder how many years it will take to go anywhere?

    There is a growing to-do list.

    There is a lot of procrastinating.  Sometimes it takes the shape of trees.

    Sometimes everything seems doable. 

    Other days, like the one when I got out the sewing machine, are a battle.

    There are gifts to sew.  The first one went along ok.  I even managed to figure out a new fake-serger-ish stitch to use.  The second project, and third...not so good.  Things may have been thrown across the room.  The machine and I are both on a timeout right now.  It glares at me from across the room, I squint my eyes at it and scowl back.

    I keep rearranging the things on my table.  Trying to get a grip on the chaos.  Trying to keep things from toppling over.  Trying to carry on with my procrastinating...

    Moons and stars help.  Especially in Deb's beautiful sky cloth.

    I'm not sure if this is about floating or sinking?!