Saturday, September 08, 2018


Did I have hope? Hope that what we carry, and feel, what we believe, can be meaningful, can be sorted, and put in order? I keep saving pretty things, and all of my feelings, hopes, ideas, dreams, for later, thinking that I will have time to complete projects, finish untangling threads of thought and emotions, express it all, and that it will give me peace of mind, comfort, understanding. Instead I have things and feelings in boxes, everywhere, stashed, dusty, unseen. And I find it harder and harder to open up, to speak, or share, to even hope that any of it is worth sharing. The world feels full of boxes and I do not have the clarity of mind, nor heart, to open any.

Sunday, September 02, 2018

September Bittersweet

The package I sent all the way to Ireland arrived, so now I can show the completed handkerchief. I guess the only thing I didn't share before were her initials. Anyway, this is the completed handkerchief, which I confess I am a bit proud of. I was chagrinned to realize that though I was participating in a swap about Beatrix Potter, I didn't have any actual Beatrix Potter themed stuff to offer. So, it was in haste that I painted Peter Rabbit, then added the tiny robin. Maybe the feeling is actually relief, not pride, because I was glad to have something that seemed fitting to send off to HC. So, yes, I believe it's relief I feel, because I am not always certain that I should make agreements or offers, participate or sign up; I have a fear of disappointing people, not fulfilling my end.

It felt good taking on embroidery, again. So I went straight away to starting the next handkerchief, settling on depicting a sheep in a simple meadow. I'd already added deep green grass and bright golden flowers, when I woke up to this sunrise, and it delights me to see that the two... the colors, even textures of the sunrise, and my sheep are so much alike.

It's ok if you don't see it. Being easily amused, I am happy to make the comparison. This may be my favorite handkerchief yet.

But between the leaping sheep and the tiny curls of the sheep's wool, I cannot pick a favorite. Have I mentioned that I am easily amused?

This little bird house came home with me from Minneapolis, from a shop in Linden Hills, Heartfelt. This is evidence of yet another crush. I've shared my Portland crush, and my general New England crush, and I'm sure I've shared my Minneapolis crush, too. How about Madison, and Door County? And how about the Troll Town in Wisconsin, Mt Horeb? Not yet? I will. Soon. There are places in the world that have me smitten, in love, in a daze, and I imagine that I could live there, and be fabulously happy, make scads of friends, and do good deeds, live purposefully, and look out every window and be glad of the views. Linden Hills is one of those neighborhoods that I adore, and the craft store, by my favorite bakery, across from one of the best bookstores, is full of supplies, inspiration, and space for making... just thinking of it has me crushing hard, all over again.

I woke up somewhat startled to realize that this is September, and the little bird house reminded me of my favorite place to be in September... Wisconsin, the Midwest, for Grandma Nancy's birthday. And with happy memories still fresh in my mind, from any number of Septembers we have enjoyed in Wisconsin, with Nancy, I imagine what we would do if we were there, now, and it is bittersweet... happy, and sad. Outside, over there, we have had such wonderful times, and there is such heartache in knowing that so much is evolving, changed, that those days are drawing to an end.

If this year has had a message, a lesson to show me, it's been about endings, these inevitable parts of life, where we lose even the best people. But I am not taking these lessons easily, nor well. Not at all. And I am certainly not ready for any more.