handstories

March blur

    There was an idea, but this isn't quite what was imagined.  A way to see the roots below, but I thought they might be more visible.  Roots take time.  I wanted to consider them more.  Hmmm...

    These were put together yesterday, and they've been staring at me ever since, like a blank eyed triclops.  What do I even want to see here?  The lines in the bottom left one make me think of the railings in Munch's "The Scream".  Better not stitch on these today.

    And this morning we woke up to snow.  In March.  It's a confusing day.  It's raining, and melting now.  Maybe that will help?  And definitely more tea.

ends, ending, endless

    A very big heart-full thank you for all of your lovely supportive thoughts and wishes.  I'm here in Oregon.  The drive yesterday was a little precarious, but to my great relief and joy a very good dear friend, who likes adventures and driving, said she would drive me and then take the train back to Seattle!  Can you believe it?!

    The view and company were beautiful.

    But now I am here.  My brother, who lives here, had to work today, one sister arrived this evening, my Rhode Island sister was delayed by a storm and won't be here until tomorrow.  

    So, I was alone in Dad's house today.  Some of the time was spent packing up the kitchen for donations, some of it was wandering aimless through the rooms learning some things about him.  Overwhelmed by the task, grunge, emotions, I took breaks.  Went to the grocery store for boxes.  Went for a long walk in the rain through my childhood streets.  Stood under the tree next to our old house.  Remembered dad up in it, trimming the branches, one falling on his face and breaking his nose.

    This was my bedroom, there were pink gingham curtains back then.  The house was light blue.  At night, I would crawl out and sit on the roof, looking at the trees and street lights, the park two blocks away, the sky, trying to imagine a bigger world.  One night I wrote a poem about it.  It was in seventh grade.  (I know that because I remember it was in the spiral notebook with a scratch-n-sniff dill pickle on the cover.)  When I showed it to a friend the next day, she didn't believe I wrote it.

    I wonder what it said?

piece & peace (& lack of)

    Yesterday was a pretty and peaceful day.  Our hill was quiet and calm.

    We got about seven inches.  The day was spent stitching and not thinking about Tuesday's trip.  

    Last night anxiety attacked.  Nightmares of Dad and guns, me trying to keep others safe, and another of fragile wombats and premature babies that I was responsible for keeping alive, and failing.  Today there is a headache and stress for the weather, the drive, some of the people to be with there, the task to do, and for the work left to do inside of myself.  

    It's looking like I should leave tomorrow, a day early, between storms.  I don't like driving in good weather.  I don't want to leave home.

    Time to start packing, and searching for some inner peace...

storm watch

    Here we go again...  It started at noon today, ending by four tomorrow, maybe a little more on Monday, and possibly a new storm on Tuesday.   My sisters are flying into Oregon on Tuesday from Rhode Island and California, and I'm supposed to drive down the same day.  We're meeting to empty out Dad's house, and then have the Gathering.  The weather report for Portland is much the same.  I'm not worrying about it all yet.

    Some stitching.  Moving from piece to piece as the stories come.

    I've been to the grocery store, moved the four-wheel drive to the flat main street a block away...the city is shutting down.  

    Now just watching the prettiness, and thinking about the things that we'll find in his house... Pendleton wool shirts, deeply stained coffee mugs, old western paperbacks, and the last of his salmon catches in the freezer.

snow & sense

    Two snow days with no school...what a treat!  Self-indulgence abounded, including hot chocolate.  Yesterday there was knitting, and today one of Jude's moons is becoming a personal talisman.

    Twice I had to go out and deal with foolish drivers.  We live on a steep hill.  If it's snowy and icy, and there are no tracks in the snow, do not try driving up or down it.  It's not rocket science, people.  But, if you do, I will come out with a shovel, roll my car backwards down the hill so you won't hit it, offer guidance to help you get down, and be kind (but I will raise my eyebrows at you).

ghosts & hope

    This morning, in that place in between dreams and waking, there came old feelings and memories, tiny flash-backs of moments.

    The clearest was from thirty years ago, while visiting a friend...

    "What's the hardest part?" she asked me.  

    We were in her backyard, on our backs looking up at the stars.  I can't remember much of the house, or even where it was, but I can still feel the cool grass on the edges of my face and the heaviness of the depression I was struggling with.

    "Waking up and knowing that I have to get up and do it all over again," I said staring into the night.

    

    In the fog of this memory, opening my eyes to the dim light of early morning, I was glad to know that there was plenty of time for a shower, oatmeal and making tea before the sun was all the way up.  That there was a whole morning with cloth, without a wasted bit of light, to look forward to.

  How swell it was to realize things are so different now, that often there are too many ideas, plans and wishes for each day, and that the dark skies usually hold hope and possibilities.

    And now it's snowing!  A tiresome burden for much of the country, I know, but it's a rare treat here in the northwest.

    Wishing you all some peace-filled dreams and days, oxo.

too many things

    The afghan is almost done, just the crocheted border to do...or not (those yarn ends you see dangling have been woven in).

    And this stuffed pillow-ish thing is begun for Moon.  Because he likes the critters I've stitched/painted.  And if a teenage boy likes something his mother makes, you better believe she's going to milk it for all it's worth!

Saint Woman, 2015 by Amy Sherald 

    And, because there is all the time in the world, a friend and I went to the Seattle Art Museum yesterday.  I can't tell you how happy I was to see a work by Amy Sherald in real life.  Apologies for my poor photography, I wish you could see how this blue really glows...

        While visiting the museum, a storm was brewing in Seattle.  Later, out on the street, the wind blew the bandana right off of my head!  Luckily, a man in the street saw it coming and stomped on it for me.  Power was out all over the area, our house included.

    Luckily, there was take-out by candlelight and Moon had a band concert in the evening.  We enjoyed the concert (and the heated, lit auditorium), and then went home to sleep under plenty of extra blankets until the electricity was back up at midnight.  

    Now back to stitching...tick-tock!

Forecast

 

    What a strange weather day.  Dark, sunny, windy, raining... trying to take photos became an obstacle course.  At one point I thought it was snowing and ran outside to look, but it was just the cherry blossom petals falling with the rain.

    Anyhow, the clouds finally cooperated, so there will be a shop update in the morning.

    I hope you are all having a pleasant weekend, whatever the weather!

snow scenes, reminiscing & a few stitches

    On Christmas Eve it began to snow!

    And snow!

    The next morning was so pretty.  It's been a long time since we've had a white Christmas.  It's melted some now, but there is still enough left to brighten the spirit.   

    Yesterday was quiet, a nice day with the guys, full of unexpected remembering of long ago things... Childhood gatherings with the relatives on Christmas Eve (with so much food & drink), trying to organize the cousins into a "show" for the grown-ups dressed in our new pjs from Grandma)... The always very welcomed arrival of Great Aunt Peggy on the Day, ping-pong... And times with a good friend (we would go to each other's house to see each other's gifts, and then walk the four blocks between our houses, back and forth, until one of the parents called out that it was time to be done.

   There was enough light and time to stitch again.  It's been a while...

   Hoping you're all keeping cozy out there...ox

sunshine on a stormy day

    In the middle square, because boats seem to be the center I keep coming back to- holding, bringing, going, through, being.

    Yesterday afternoon the sky grew so dark and filled with wind and rain.  Moon and I watched the lights flicker, heard sirens and all kinds of sounds for a couple of hours.  There was one really big slow crack  a block away. . . 

    In the middle of it all, the mailman blew up the walkway, wrestling the wind as he tried to sort out our letters.  I went out to help hold things, and he handed over some glowing sunshine!

    It was Els' beautiful Solstice cloth. . . I love all of the different stitches, textures and fabrics that she put into it.  A bright cheery bit of light in the middle of a dark day.  Thank you so very much for your generous sharing, Els!