a quilt...

I decided I should sit down in a big comfy chair for a bit and stretch my fingers out before I started looking like the hunchback of Notre-Dame complete with claws for hands.  I've been prepping a duffel-bag full of uniforms to start the quilt. Daily uniforms, dress uniforms, removing the bits and pieces that will create a memory of a time served.  Some of that stuff was very difficult to cut through and the scissors I am using are sharp enough to slice your fingers by sliding across an unattended blade.  

I'm down to one pair of pants.  They are the bright blue of the dress uniform.  As I have been cutting and salvaging the fabric, I have been plotting and planning.  Trying to decide the best places and orders to use each color.  I will admit, this bright blue with it's very recognizable red stripe has me a bit stumped. I thought I had it figured out, all planned and ready to use. Until I realized there was only one pair and the stripe is only on the outside.  They would have needed 6ft long legs for my plan to work.  So I am back at mentally planning it out.  I will figure it out.  The stripe might end up in the piano key border that my brain keeps insisting needs to frame the whole quilt. Who knows. 

I already know the quilt will have the middle panel, bordered by a modified trip around the world, I will create some star blocks that will include his patches and emblems.  I am a bit ignorant of the proper terminology with Marine ranks and insignia, but I am sure I can do it justice. I am not sure how I am going to include the stars, I have several different ideas and I guess it will depend on what it looks like when I get to that point in the quilt.  I have most of it worked out in my brain.  Almost time to commit!

For a small moment in time.  I am sipping my ice tea, enjoying the changing colors outside the window and timing my sweet pups time out in the sunshine.  It's been so mild that they have gotten quite spoiled with lots of outside time, today is edging back into the 80's... which means less outside time than they like.  Again, Belle is my smart girl, she will bring herself inside. Beau... That boy loves the heat (not good with seizures) and has to be almost dragged into the house. 

last night at 9 pm

My plan is to have the piecing of the quilt done by Friday.  Hubs has a few appointments this week (getting ready for surgery) so those should give me the break that my body will be craving from cutting, ironing, cutting, stitching, measuring and sewing some more. I am so excited to see how this turns out.  I am feeling very blessed to have been selected to create it.  And honestly, once I have committed with the first snip of the scissors I am a bit obsessive.  If everything goes as planned, it will be on the longarm this weekend. 

I'm really doing terrible sitting here decompressing.  I have thoughts bouncing in and out, trying desperately to write them down before they shift away into something else.  My brain is truly at the dining room table, my thoughts are deeply wrapped up with this quilt. Maybe I'll be more successful writing tomorrow... 

today at 1 pm

I'm heading back to the piles of threads and fabrics... 

bittersweet memories...

It's been roughly 7 years, maybe a bit longer, maybe a bit less.  I am not sure.  What I do know is that the emotions that hit me walking into the MX last night were powerful.  It was my baby, I'd put so much into it.  Lost myself for a while.  Too many long days, nights, weekends... wow, just wow. 

As I hugged my dear friends and wandered around the building that I used to know so very well. A few faces were vaguely familiar, the rest unknown.  I met a new face, what an amazing young lady.  She'd been afraid I would slip on some water and had rushed in to warn me.  I had to laugh.  I knew every spot that water might pool in there and was already stepping aside.  I thanked her.

We talked for a bit, she told me the things she loved about the building and people.  I shared with her my memories.  The joy I had felt cutting the ribbon on that place and building a family with the people inside the doors.  It was fun.  It reminded me of all the reasons I had stayed through the hard times.  For a small, tiny moment, I missed it all. 

I felt myself kick into the old protective mode.  Lifting up people's spirits about the loss they would soon suffer, chatting with them about other options for them and what buildings might fit their needs the best once the MX closed it's doors for good. You always find good people when you expect to. 

I was blessed to spend a bit of time with people that mean a great deal to me.  Walking through memories that I thought I had built a wall around and feeling tears well up, threatening to spill over as I walked out the door.  I will probably go a time or two before they are locked the final time.  A few more moments to remember and celebrate the team I was blessed to be a part of, the dream we tried so hard to make into a reality.  I'm sure nothing as grand as the beautiful art hotel the old Y was replaced with will take it's place, closing that one tore my very soul.  Who knows, before long I might walk through the doors of 1528 again.  But those memories still bite.  They cause a sense of loss that has pain tied to it... who knows... 

It was a weekend of memories, something I rarely participate in.  For a huge history buff... someone that could literally walk into the past and forget to walk back to the present, my own history is something I rarely revisit.  I block it out mentally and physically.  I have a nasty habit of cutting the ties, refusing to hold on to things.  I truly have no idea why, but I definitely do it. 

Hubs on the other hand, has a remarkable ability to remember it all!!!  I mean, dates, times, names, the weather, the feeling, you name it he can remember it and the moment it occurred and probably most everything that has happened to the person, place or thing in the adjoining years.  

This weekend, I saw him brought to tears of joy.  I actually witnessed him physically being drawn back to a space and time that even predated him.  No, I am not suggesting he was remembering a time that was before he was even conceived, although with him nothing would truly surprise me.  But he was given a blessing that few of us receive. 

Over the past few weeks, we've been cleaning out some clutter and stuff that is simply taking up space.  One of those areas is the old album collection.  The one that sits gathering dust, filled with memories that no one is going to want when we've left this plane. 

We tagged teamed to get the listing typed up, me typing, him reading.  We'd finished all the full albums and decided to tackle the 78's and 45's.  As we sorted through the dusty records, we found a few treasures.  Records that were physically recorded by his older brother.  He was a a drummer after he returned home from the war. These felt priceless. 

One of the records was from 1947, it was a recorded letter home to his dad and mom. A few others were slightly more recent, probably early 50's, these were self-recordings of him and his wife. Evidently she had been either a singer or musician also.  They were dusty, covered in slight scratches and we didn't have a record player.  They will return home on Friday.  

Hubs being Hubs got into a conversation with the young man that bought one of the collections he was selling and what a happy God wink that was!  The young man had just bought a turntable that could make digital recordings.  His own brother had passed away young, he understood the desire to hear their voice again.  

Nowadays, it's easier.  There are recordings, phone messages, videos... we seem to have them everywhere. But from 1947?  Junior has been gone since the early 90's.  We have pictures, we have random bits of things.  But to hear his voice?  To listen to his drumming?  Nope, those things were lost to him. 

The young man took the records home with him.  He promised to get on it before the weekend was over.  What a gamble.  To trust those irreplaceable treasures to a stranger... But trust he did. 

Saturday morning, I was in the process of doing about a dozen things at once... pure chaos!  Cooking, gardening, tidying the house - when I heard Hubs call up from the basement.  Demanding I come down. It sounded so urgent.  He does this thing where he won't tell me why he needs me, just makes it sound critically urgent and then silence. 

It drives me nuts and I know I was a bit fussy, I was so busy in that moment. Something about the look on his face stopped me from being my usual smarty pants and I paused on the steps.  Yes, my need for instant answers was absolutely killing me, but I paused.  I watched him fiddling with his phone and speaker.  Frustration mounting, but curiosity starting to win the battle. 

Then in a mix of snaps, pops and scratches, across the decades came the voice.  It was hard to make out, but there was Juniors' voice.  I can't remember the full date, but he definitely said it, my brain stuck on the 1947... his "letter" home from the front in Germany.  

Watching my sweet Hubs melt, his eyes full of tears of joy.  That was irreplaceable. The young man recorded and sent to him every bit that could be heard.  With the magic of technology, Junior was at our home, Hubs was able to listen, to remember, to share those memories.  It truly was a God wink.  An unexpected gift and treasure.  

Definitely a weekend of memories.  Some joyous, some more melancholy and painful.  Time spent with friends and ghosts of the times gone by.  I had been sad about the number of my team that have passed away, silenced.  Hubs was gifted with his brother's voice and musical skills.  The past didn't seem so far away. 

This week is dawning busy.  Hubs has appointments almost everyday this week as we start the process of healing his shoulder, finally!  We will also be getting ready for a city wide yard sale and I get to start on the memory quilt that I have been commissioned to make. 

Did I tell you about that?  Oh what an exciting journey it is going to be!  I am going to be using a veteran's uniforms to create a memory quilt for him.  We have the bones planned out, but the rest?  Well... I can't wait to see it come to life.  Memory quilts are some of my absolute favorite things to make. I can't wait to share it with you. 

I haven't gotten any further on the bit that is making me think - which is why I haven't shared it yet.  It is slowly taking form in my mind and heart. That bit of a conundrum is still lingering there, waiting for attention.

Well, I need to get busy, it's going to be an overwhelmingly busy kind of day and sitting around isn't going to happen. 

my boys...

I hope everyone has a wonderful week...

much love, 

b

no regrets...

It's a delightful morning in the garden.  Hubs had to be to work early, so it's just me and my coffee.  I'm sitting here amazed at the beauty, the softness of the weather (cool and no humidity?? what a blessing), the critters waking up ready to start their day.  While my critters gave up and went back to bed over an hour ago. 

The hummingbirds are darting in and out of all the flowers and plants, enjoying a bit of breakfast as they go.  The squirrels are running through the branches above causing a special chaos of their own, morning calisthenics I guess. All the birds are slowing waking, they are singing and talking amongst themselves.  And I find myself loathe to go inside.  I want to enjoy it for as long as I can.  The soft breeze carrying the sounds to me is refreshing, balancing, healing. 

The neighborhood is still silent, kids are sleeping in, yard crews haven't started working yet.  There is only the occasional sound of a car passing by. I am definitely in my happy place.  

So many things are grabbing my attention lately.  Forcing me to pause, reflect, reconsider ideals and beliefs.  Making me reflect on life as a whole.  I'm still piecing so much of it together.  My thoughts are still flitting here and there.  

I am sure I won't post this today, I am finding I need time to process what I am writing.  Sometimes they linger for days or weeks now.  While I think through my thoughts, my ideas, my hopes and plans.  I am finding a comfort in slowing down to a crawl, to completely leaving a rat race I never wanted to be a part of. 

If I could I would move out to the country.  I always wanted to be disconnected, too bad I didn't realize it when I was younger. At this point, it's not really feasible.  Hubs and I are getting older. I will be 61 in a few short weeks, something that seems absurd if you want to know the truth. Hubs is already 74.  Moving at this point is not a wise choice, the city holds things we need. Beau needs access to emergency vet services and not ones that are an hour away.  If he gets stuck in a cluster seizure it could kill him before we were able to get him to a vet. We simply need to be responsible.  Besides, we have a beautiful home, tucked into a beautiful quiet spot.  But a girl can dream. 

That being the case, we are finding more and more ways to step out of the insanity. We are creating our own little countryside home within the confines of an HOA.  Wow, if that isn't an oxymoron of a statement.  But it's the little things that create a bigger thing.  I long for a sense of community. Something that you can't really find in these times.  I long for time with people I trust and care about.  When our friends come to dinner or to spend time together it is so refreshing and soul healing.  

I am pondering so hard on a podcast I listened to while mowing the lawn.  I don't remember it word for word.  I don't have to, the message was loud and clear.  It was in response to the reactions many to Lindsay Graham's death.  But it could have been about anyone.  It was the synopsis of a book or paper written by a funeral home owner. 

It's been stuck in my brain on auto-replay since I heard it. He was talking about the 5 things he hears over and over at funerals. The things people say in front of him, because he is basically invisible in those trying times. I will probably get these wrong, and the order is definitely going to be wonky.  But in a nutshell... 1) I love you, 2) how will I survive without you, 3) Please don't leave me, 4) I thought we had more time, 5) I should have called.

Wow, just wow.  He said it doesn't matter how rich or poor, how beloved or alone the person was, those five things are always said by someone as they visit someone that has passed on. 

The same day I heard this, I found out that one of my second cousins had passed away that day.  I didn't know him well, I haven't lived in Pennsylvania since I was very, very young and then only briefly.  I slightly remember him from our visits home, but those are a blur.  I saw him about 10 years ago down at my mom's house, but the visit is vague and I was focused more on my great uncle and my uncle whom I adore.  What I do remember is that I have gotten a text from him every holiday since that visit.  Nothing fancy, just a Happy this or that I hope your family is well.  Most of the time I responded the same way.  I can't promise that I always did, because I struggle with doing that when I get a bunch of them.  I'm sure I forget folks often. 

I told you I wouldn't finish this, time got away from me and I needed to still think on it. 

Today, as I was tearing apart my beloved KitchenAid mixer the song "Leader of the Band" kept playing through my mind.  I have never torn apart a stand mixer before, but I am cheap and I do not believe in a no win scenario.  I was going to fix that baby if it killed me! Here it is 3 hours later, and I just finished cleaning up.  My mixer is ready for another couple decades of abuse, although I do believe I will be changing the grease a lot sooner next time!  

I literally almost threw up when I opened that baby up!  I have rebuilt and pampered 70 year old sewing machines that haven't been taken care of.  So you can imagine how horrible it was. I text my sweet Hubs the picture as I started and asked if he believed in miracles, because that is all that was keeping her working I assure you. 

Let's go back to that song.  My Dad and I loved each other deeply, many times my mom has told me that I am very much like him.  She's probably right, because boy oh boy could we lock horns.  We could fight like pro-boxers, shoot maybe MMA, the scars run very deep. I'm sure for both of us.  He's been gone for a good minute now.  Thankfully, I don't retain those kind of memories, I know the day but the year?  Who knows.  In my world gone is gone.  It still hurts, marking time doesn't change that.

Birthday anyone?

Pretty sure it's the first time I saw him.

Nothing like a trip to IHOP!

My Dad was a firm believer that we needed to learn any and everything.  Guess that is where I got it.  He was bullheaded and didn't back down from a challenge.  I was thanking him as I worked on my mixer, for all the times he insisted that I learn basic electronics, for his insistence that we all got a basic knowledge or motors and engines. I'm sure there are many lessons that he taught me that I don't consciously remember. But as I pulled the motor brushing's and checked them I could hear his voice in my head.  With each screw I heard him reminding me to lay them out in the order I would need to return them. 

My Dad was not a musician that I can remember.  He loved music and shared it with us. Saturday dance parties were often happening, and no I didn't inherit the dancing skill at all, at least not if it didn't pertain to ballet... But this section of that song has always been the part that plays in my head and heart when I think of my Dad. 

"I thank you for the music and your stories of the road.  I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go.  I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough.  And Papa, I don't think I said I love you near enough..."

My Dad and I shared a love of adventure and experiencing all that life has to offer.  I remember so many times he forced us girls to experience places, things, history and life in general making memories along the way.  I say forced, because it wasn't negotiable, you participated.  But it wasn't forced, because I loved it all.  Until it was time to learn things like electric and motors.  I was terrified.  Although, I did try to model that for my kids as well.  Although, I didn't force things like electric and motors...

My Dad understood when I decided I was grown and ready to step out.  He wasn't happy, but he understood.  He left me a path home, although I didn't know it at the time. And he definitely let you know you had disappointed him and he could walk away cold.  I know I inherited that, although I try to control it.  I have at least 7 letters disowning me, and even more notes.  I didn't keep them all.  But some still remain. 

One of my favorite pictures

The last line, is the one that forever haunts me.  Did I tell him how much I loved him enough?  When he passed I was busy making a "career" - what a freaking joke.  I gave up precious time for people that wouldn't pour water on me if I was on fire.  But... I knew my dad was proud that I was accomplishing so much.  

I have tried very hard, since his passing to be present with the people I love, that lesson was painful and cut deeply.  I am not a great friend, I get lost in projects, ideas, dreams... and I do forget to make the calls.  I am terrible at checking in.  The people that matter to me are always in my thoughts, I just struggle to intrude in their lives.

I often struggle where my children and grand children are concerned.  Walking the line between being intrusive and present.  I pray they know that they are cherished and I am here for them while letting them live their best lives.  

I keep reflecting on the things that man shared.  I don't want to say those words to the people that matter in my life when the clock runs out.  I don't want to be haunted by worry that I didn't say I love you enough.  I don't want to let people wonder if they matter to me or if they crossed my mind.  And I never want to wonder what I would do without them.  If and when any of the loves in my life pass before me, I want that space to be filled with incredible memories, not the questions I have with my Dad.  I want the memories to not be tinged with regret.  And I want to be thankful for the gifts given, the knowledge, the joy, the bad stuff can linger in the background.  It's not a rich life without some bumps.  

One of my absolute favorites of my two favorite men!

Okay, this has been way too deep and I have a snigglet in my brain now... time to listen to a song, think about my Dad for a moment longer and get busy. I have things to do...

much love, 

b

walking in the rain...

The rain definitely arrived last night.  I heard it coming down around 4 am, the steady rhythm beating on the chimney vent. Thankfully, it was only rain.  No high winds, hail or any of the other chaos that was predicted.  We need the rain, it's been so dry for several years now, I am definitely not complaining.  I just hate the fear and anxiety that the big storms create in Beau.  

Personally, I love a good thunder storm, the louder and brighter the better.  Beau, not so much.  And tornado weather will set him off like crazy. We don't need any of that chaos, just bring the rain. 

It's my first born's birthday today.  I am hoping we will be able to steal her and the family away for dinner tonight.  I so want an opportunity to celebrate her.  She is a busy gal though, raising her own babies and doing all the things.  So we will see. 

I always drift back to her arrival in my mind and heart today.  She came into the world ready to conquer it and I feel like she does that every day.  She is so incredibly strong and powerful.  I didn't have the slightest idea what I was doing as a young mom, but I am blessed every day by her presence in my life.  My aunt was terrified of me being a mom, I didn't handle her baby spitting up on me particularly well just a short few years before and when he started to wail I definitely passed him back.  I remember her telling me if it was too much for me that she'd take her and raise her until I was ready.  

It was a loving idea, but definitely not my idea. I grew up raising that strong willed little Blondie.  She shaped me in ways she will never know.  She taught me patience. She instilled in me resilience. She inspired faith.  And she often forced me to look outside of what was normal for me.  She and I are absolutely nothing alike in so many ways. And yet in even more ways we are the same.  It just depends on what level you are looking from. 

God blessed me so much with my girl.  The amount of joy and pride that I have in who she is and the strength that she steps boldly into life, really has no words.  Pure love doesn't need words.

I spent the first part of today spoiling the fur babies.  The rain stilled.  I debating just walking in the neighborhood.  Close enough to dash home if it started again.  But, honestly the neighborhood is so boring.  I mean you can only look at the same thing so many times.  Besides that your muscle memory kicks in when you do the same walk every day.  

So we took our chances.  We didn't go far, just down to the river.  Since we are under a flood warning, I was curious how much it had risen and if we would be able to follow the path we were planning.  Did I seriously just say we?  I guess I did ask them if that is the place they wanted to go, but in all fairness, I am not sure they had a say in the matter.  

I love watching the world wake up from it's winter slumber, even in the dreariness of the rain and darkened skies you can see the bright green popping out everywhere.  Along the path, the river raging just below flood stage you could see the vibrate shade of the new moss blanketing the ground beneath the trees. Still naked, some of them starting to form tiny colorless buds.  If you look closely you will see the daffodils, jonquil and henbit popping up all around provide the first signs of life on the sides of the path.  The honeysuckle is springing to life also.  Sadly, most of it around here is the invasive non-native kind, the bright green leaves are not really a welcome sign, as it signals our native plants are yet again going to fight for the precious spring rays that will bring life to them. 

The rain held for the entire 3 mile walk.  My sweet pups couldn't resist the call of the mud puddles.  Of course the white dog is the one with the greatest passion for a good mud puddle. I haven't been able to get a picture of the big goofy smile he always has while bouncing happily in the muck, although I do keep trying.  It definitely makes the extra bath worth it.  Belle always succumbs to the temptation, but Beau always leads the way!

Lifting them both into the car, realizing they were both soaking wet, I was definitely questioning the intelligence of my decision. The big goofy smiles and tails wagging assured me I'd made the right choice. 

The skies darkened deeper, the rain started falling.  Home we went. 

Pups are lounging asleep.  If I picture could have captured Beau's snoring, it would have been loud and deep.  Rainy days are for napping....

Well, I have things to do and chatting isn't getting them done.  

much love, 

b

some days...

Yesterday's rainy weather got lost, it showed up in the wee hours this morning.  It definitely looks far more deary than it actually is. We could have used the actual rain yesterday, this frozen mixture is doing very little for the parched ground. As I sit here and watch the snowflakes falling a mix of huge and tiny, I am now wondering how much of it is going to stick. We were told none, as I watch the decks, grass, trees and everything else slowly turning a beautiful white, the flakes are now large and fluffy. I'm over winter, I'm tired of being teased by those random beautiful days that beacon us to put away the sweaters and sit outside to bask in the brightness of the sun. 

I'm ready for the rebirth.  That beautiful shade of green that burst forth as the seasons officially change, is something I am longing to see. 

This blog was interrupted by Beau's desire to go for a walk. Thankfully the snow isn't sticking, to any degree, it will all melt away quickly, although it is stupid cold out there.  This time of year makes me absolutely crazy, Sunday we were at the park having a picnic.  Today, the pups and I were the only ones crazy enough to be out.  They have a fenced yard, so I am not sure what the desire for a walk was, I just know he wasn't going to lay down and chill until he walked. 

I'm sitting here until we go for a walk

I was in a strange space yesterday, I didn't realize the date until late in the evening when one of my sisters posted the last picture of our entire family together.  It was 7 years since that early morning call. The one I had been expecting, never wanting to receive. I had errands to run, so I hadn't really created a solid plan for the day.  So I was basically filling in the times between things.  

Hub's truck needed to go to the shop.  I'd finally hit the point that I was not willing to allow it to go anywhere until it was looked at.  My worrywart side had come to the conclusion that the noise we'd been hearing for months was no longer something minor, that it was growing to the point of being crazy expensive (I mean what isn't these days).  Ends up fairly minor, whew, but they couldn't tell us how long they would need the truck to be onsite.  Oddly, I rarely if ever go anywhere and don't truly need a car, but it feels strange to not have one.  I often ponder how we got to the mindset that we needed things like multiple cars.  Realistically, our family doesn't need two cars, I seriously hardly leave the house.  Yet, it feels weird.  

Later Hubs and I decided to skip dinner time and catch a movie.  Gotta say, I was seriously not excited about his choice in movies.  I am not a movie person, I don't sit still well, so a movie date means I am going to have to be still. The people sitting beside me would definitely frown if I  started breaking out yarn and a crochet hook. It seemed important to him.  So we went.

"My Dead Friend Zoe" is not a title I would have expected from Hubs.  Honestly, expected a horror movie with that title, and he never chooses those. It is a beautiful, haunting, sad and hopeful story.  I personally hope every person in the country goes to see it. 

Hubs occasionally battles PTSD, any veteran that has served in combat is bound to experience it from time to time.  Although it is not exclusive to veterans, they suffer in the greatest numbers.  This story is about a veteran, it's about the process of dealing with those terrible things that linger and eat into the very essence of their lives.  I was not about to let him go see that kind of movie alone.  

If you have a chance to go see it, please do.  Our veterans have done an amazing service for all of us.  Understanding the battles they will always face is the least we can do for them. 

As I filled the hours in between the things, I decided to work on things that will fill my booth at the craft show at the end of the month. I mean, why not be productive with ones time.

I'm enjoying making these a bit 
too much

Through it all, I couldn't shake the disconnected feeling of the day.  It felt off.  I felt like there was something I was supposed to do, yet couldn't recall what it was. As the day unwound, and I saw the picture my sister posted, it felt like everything clicked into place.  I love and hate that picture at the same time.  I cherish that we were all together before the domino's started to fall, my heart hurts to remember that was the final smile I saw. The remaining time was hard, for all of us, the remaining time was bitter. 

us

I don't visit the past much.  Which is ironic given that I live a simpler life more common in the past.  I sometimes think it is because I am not strong enough to deal with what is back there.  I never linger over pictures of loved ones gone on, I get fussy when Hubs wants to show me pictures and video's of my fur babies that are gone.  It isn't something I can do.  I am horrible with remembering dates connected to those memories.  Maybe it is a flaw in my make up or maybe it is a protective mechanism.  It doesn't diminish the love I carry, it just softens the ache. 

Today is a different day, today as the winds race around and the cold permeates everything while winter struggles to hold on for another little bit, I am more centered.  Today, I can think, I don't feel disconnected.  Today is a day for daydreaming, planning and moving forward. 

What does that look like?  Outside of the garden planning, there are other things I am longing to do. I am just trying to discover what that path forward looks like.  I am finally ready to start dusting off day dreams and giving them life.  Hubs and I have long talked about my teaching basic sewing and quilting skills to people that want to learn.  

Gertrude, my 301a

I am passionate about my vintage/antique machines and would love to share that passion with others.  I'm not sure what forward looks like, but I do believe that if folks are interested, I am going to teach on those machines.  

Not everyone has a vintage Singer 221 (featherweight) I am blessed to have several, and my Singer 301a is an absolute dream to sew on.  I also have a Singer 99k and several 15's and 128's to name a few.  The simplicity and ease makes sewing on them a pure joy.  I wish I had been blessed to have one when I was learning. I also have the ability to work on all of those machines and I can teach others to take care of their own.  Like I said, there are dreams dancing in my heart and head, I think they are just about ready to become real...

time to stop daydreaming and get busy

But not if I spend all my time sitting here writing, rewriting and day dreaming.  I want to go get a loaf of bread started and then I need to get busy.  A cold, dreary day calls for something warm don't you think?

peace and love my friends...

oh my....

Okay, it's official, I have definitely picked HUGE projects for my to do list.  I was all proud of myself doing the things, marking them off, feeling uber successful at managing life, and then I tackled the Christmas closet as I call it. 

I mean I did laundry, tidied up the house, canned two full canners of cranberry juice and even spent time learning how to use the sublimation printer and create things. I was feeling in control by noon when I decided to tackle the Christmas boxes. I knew the whole storage area needed addressed, but I didn't exactly plan to do it.  I thought maybe I would get to it later this year or... well... you know never?!

That isn't how it went.  I pulled out all the Christmas stuff, the piles and piles of wrapping paper, bags, bows and such that had been stuffed in there year after year as the holidays ended and exhaustion took it's toll.  When Hubs and I would promise one another that we'd address it in the summer or over a staycation. Yup, I think I mentioned yesterday, those days seriously never happen. 

As you can imagine...one thing led to another.  

Hubs had been wondering what had happened to his photo albums from Vietnam, and I decided to peek into boxes and see if I couldn't find them. I was not only stunned but very dismayed to see the chaotic way we had packed when we moved from Illinois.  The move was rushed, awkward and based on what I saw yesterday, completely chaotic.  In all fairness, we were both working around 50+ hours a week, I was still recovering from whooping cough and we didn't know it at the time but Hubs' hip was literally disintegrating at a rapid rate and it would be the start of probably the hardest year we've ever experienced together. 

At any rate, I started pulling out boxes, cleaning out cabinets and hauling up trash, I somehow managed to walk 4.62 miles without ever leaving my house.  Most of it in my basement. I'm not even half-way finished, so Christmas is still up and beautiful at my home. Although I think I will take down the small amount I put up outside, before heading down today.  

I found treasures in the midst of the chaos.  Little things that made me smile and laugh, my kiddo's first baby blankets, my first baby blankets, little tokens of life that had been packed away, saved to look back on at some point in life. I rediscovered my letter jacket, doesn't look too bad for 40 years old.  My graduation tassel and even a beautiful embroidery that was made when I was born. My Korean doll my dad sent me when I was born (he was there for the first 18 months of my life) and the one he bought my daughter when he returned to visit during her first year of life. 

Those treasures made me laugh and smile.  Those are the kinds of memories that I cherish. I did find two of Hub's missing photo albums so far.  And he found the complete set of newspapers from the 1940's and on, that carried his Dad's writings, articles and photos. I learned a lot about his passion for horses and the impact he'd made on that community in this area throughout his life. We uncovered the final article written about his Dad a little over a year after his passing, it was powerful and heart wrenching to listen to Hubs read it aloud.  

We found a small envelope that we hadn't known existed, in my world it was the most priceless of all, it contained photos that we thought didn't exist any longer.  There were pictures of Hubs throughout his childhood, including a few when he was probably six months or so old.  He had assumed those were all long gone, yet there they were preserved as if they were taken yesterday. 

We aren't sure where in the old house these precious memories had been stashed away.  A lot of his family memories had been destroyed when the basement of the house in Fairview had flooded, finding those photos of him were a blessing beyond words.  There is even one of him at his first communion while he was at St. Johns.  He shared how wonderful of a man the father was, and how wicked the nun standing behind him was.  

We found stacks of outdated, unusable computer disks, cables and lord knows what else, video cassettes from our kids' childhood, CD's and DVD's that we had long since forgotten about.  It's incredible the stuff that you put aside to deal with later while you are in the midst of working more than a full time job and managing life the best you can. It might take me all week to tackle that room and one other, but the feeling of joy that comes from eliminating a HUGE stressor, is indescribable. 

The sheer number of old record albums we discovered has led me to believe we either need to find a serious collector or two, or simply buy a record player and start listening to them.  I think there are 5 or 6 boxes full. He comes from a long line of music lovers. 

I have an old metal cabinet that has always held stacks of blankets, comforters, etc.  I can't remember who it belonged to although Hubs had told me a few hundred times, his mom or Gramma.  I opened it, filled with great trepidation yesterday, I knew it was crammed full of old blankets that we no longer needed, but hadn't dealt with.  Probably 90% was put into either the trash or donate piles, and the small pile of true treasures was moved on to a safer location.  

That metal cabinet, fully organized now, has gone from a sad nightmare to my shining glory of success from yesterday. It now contains that huge unruly pile of empty boxes and chaos of wrapping paper, ribbons, bows etc.  

It feels cleansing, energizing.  I was raised military, we cleaned everything out each move, it was part of the cycle, the journey so to speak.  I don't think I ever realized how powerful and healing it is to go through this process on a regular basis. It's been too long. 

Well, I need to get with.  I have to be at my daughters in a short bit, then home to work continue to work on the basement.  Onward!  Oh yeah, the stuff on my to do list, definitely need more time than I originally planned... 

love, prayers and blessings... 

Happy Christmas Eve...

The tree is trimmed, the lights are on, a few decades ago we would have been telling overly excited kiddo's the Christmas story as we tried to get them ready to be tucked into bed. The pups have already opened their one gift for the night, Hubs' new jammies (I had to get them for someone) are lying on the poof beside the sofa.  My glass of eggnog moonshine (my Christmas eve gift) is empty and in the dishwasher.  No one is tracking Santa's journey at our house tonight. 

I'm sitting here alone enjoying the lights and listening to Pastor Bob Joyce sing beautiful Christmas carols (if you loved Elvis' music like I did, you really need to take a listen... dang). In a bit I will climb the stairs, worn out from a busy day and ready to sleep. Wondering when my sweet Hubs will finally be home from a long evening.  

Ironically, I am having flashbacks to the first Christmas I spent with Hubs.  That Christmas eve was very similar, although I had my boy to keep busy. He got called into work that night also.  I knew when his phone rang at 7:30 pm on Christmas eve that it wasn't going to be good news.  You simply don't get that type of call on such an important night and have it be good. I could hear the voice of one of the Vice President of his buildings, I really like him and have known him for a long time, I heard the apology and then the news.  Nope, it wasn't good news.

As he rushed to get out of his jammies and new robe and dressed to head to his building, I already knew it was going to be a super long night, the deja vu factor was strong.  I wanted to be mad, I wanted to yell and scream and cry.  None of those emotions bubbled to the surface.  I knew he wouldn't have been called if it wasn't dire. 

Without any kids at home, the night feels odd already.  Puppies don't care what day they open their gifts and it already felt surreal.  I've been dealing with my own feelings, trying to keep them tamped down hard, trying to adjust to the vast amount of time that sometimes passes between visits from kiddo's and the mixture of excitement of spending our twentieth Christmas together.  Let's just say it's already been an emotional roller coaster.  I wonder if I just don't have any unfelt feelings left to deal with this. 

I worry about him, I know he will push himself super hard, having dealt with a similar situation in the past, I know that it won't be pleasant or fun.  They've called as many folks together as they can, it will take hours.  He forgets that he's not a spring chicken any longer.  Add that to the fact that he's already pushed himself too hard the past few days in the bitter cold means that he will be exhausted. I don't want him to make himself sick, he's on vacation for the next week, I'd hate for him to spend it all in bed.  Bitter cold and water are not a great combination.

He text me a bit ago, telling me to not wait up.  I'm not sure what I will do, I'm weary.  My nap faded away today when my oldest friend in the world called me to chat.  I miss her, deeply.  I wish she wasn't so very far away.  But hearing her voice and talking about all the random crap only served to remind me that she and I will always be sisters by heart, we don't miss a beat.  We can go literally months or years without talking and it's like it was just yesterday when we reconnect. 

One of my sisters is stopping by on her way back home tomorrow, it feels wonderful to have bits and pieces of what I consider a normal Christmas memories.  Growing older sort of feels like everything gets put into a kaleidoscope, just the slightest turn changes it all.  It's still beautiful and wondrous, but it is also very different, a completely new picture and reality. 

Life is definitely every changing.  I always thought I was so flexible, adaptable... now I question if I truly am.  Or if I am becoming rigid, do I long for the security of the known to the point that I no longer search for the beauty of the unknown?  Or am I simply learning to flow with it.  

The hot tears that threatened at the change to the evening never fell.  Instead, I sat and watched the rest of the Christmas special we'd been watching, cuddled my puppies and then got up and cleaned up the house.  Worked on the few Christmas gifts I still needed to wrap  up before heading to the eldest's house tomorrow evening and now I'm sitting down.  The wind is still raging, it's been an interesting couple of days, the music is fading and the evening has shifted into night.  

I will probably sleep, much like I did 20 years ago.  Waiting for Prince Charming to reappear and wake me from my sleep.  Unlike that night so long ago, he will probably be weary and sweet and let me sleep.  He will be exhausted and climb into bed silently to sleep until morning.  Hopefully, we will get to open gifts and spend the day together, but I am not overly optimistic, he's dealing with a huge problem.  We'll see.  It's a milestone Christmas for us, twenty years... but if it ends up being 20 years and a day, it will be okay. 

Happy Christmas eve... Hug your loved ones, cherish the moments with the little's while they are still young and embrace the joy in the smallest things. Remember God sent his only begotten son, for us. 

love and peace....

making memories...

I should be heading upstairs to my sewing room, I'm a touch behind, but the fire is so comforting and it's zapping the chill out of the air.  Hot coffee, cookies that the youngest made and a warm fire.  Perfect way to deal with bitter wind chills and negative temperatures. I am fairly certain I have never felt it this cold here in the mid-west.  These are temperatures that usually happen far north of here.  I was shocked to see -6° as this mornings actual temp.  I piled towels in front of the door thresholds last night, the cold was simply unreal as the wind whipped around. It might be cold out there, but at least we will have a bit of a white Christmas.  It was too cold for much accumulation yesterday, but this snow loving fool will gladly take whatever bit decides to fall. 

I hit a pause button yesterday.  On Wednesday night, I got a text asking if my littlest dragon could hang out for a bit, she was frustrated and just didn't want to be home or do the things mom needed to do. Hubs and I immediately said yep and put our wine back in the fridge.  We were up for any time with the little bit, she's very attached to her mom and rarely wants to do anything that takes her away from mom. 

Initially, she pushed back and didn't want to come hang out when she realized mom was not going to be joining us.  Miracles of miracles, she not only joined us, she stayed the night and all day yesterday.  We spent more than 24 wonderful hours together.  

I'd been feel a bit gloomy where the holidays were concerned.  Too many Christmases without kiddos, just felt a little blah. I had been busy making the best of it, but still feeling a bit glum the closer we got to the actual day.  We usually do Christmas PJ's on Christmas eve, this will be the first time we don't.  In fact I think we've decided to simply let that tradition die, we are all fussy about what we sleep in and none of us needs another pair of pj's.  EVER! It sort of felt like the last of the traditions I had grown up with falling away. 

The little dragon, renewed my spirit and filled my heart with boundless joy.  The first thing she asked was if we would take her shopping for her mom.  Christmas was sneaking up fast and she hadn't been shopping for her mom at all.  We spent a bit of time letting her pick out whatever she felt Mom needed, oh my was it great.  She had to have a card and pretty gift bag, even though she also insisted on wrapping every single present separately. She gave up going to look at Christmas lights, because she wanted to come home and wrap her gifts and write a letter.  

The pride on her little 5 year old face at picking, wrapping and packaging a gift for her mom, was so radiant and full of love. Things get tough for kids sometimes, and she is so smart and precocious that we all sometimes forget that she is truly just 5 years old.  She's tall for her age to top it off, so it is an easy step to forgetfulness. 

As we snuggled up for a few moments before she drifted to sleep, still insisting that maybe she shouldn't spend the night (mom really needed time to wrap gifts and get ready to leave today) we talked about all kinds of things that are important to a child.  As I stroked her little forehead and listened she shared with me how hard she is trying to be good at school and how difficult it is.  I'm sure a lot of it is boredom, she's so advanced that kindergarten is leaving her too much time to fill under strict guidelines.  Her mom was the same way, although she truly doesn't remember that part of it all. 

Yes I took the candy cane away before sleep...

All too quickly she was sound asleep, snuggled into the quilts and pillows like a little angel resting on clouds.  She is an intense child, I treasure that about her.  I don't find her to be too much.  I sat and watched her for a few moments before heading off to bed. Cherishing those precious moments, thanking God for the blessing of time with her that I had received. 

Somewhere around 4:30 am, a little angel with a head full of unruly curls stood beside me, "gramma, I had a bad dream will you come snuggle me in my bed?" One does not decline such a sweet request.  As we walked back to her bed I was silently wondering if that meant we were up for the day, praying that we weren't as I was still so very tired, bracing myself for the possibility at the same time.  

Within moments, snuggled up in my arms that sweet angel was fast asleep.  I laid there and drifted in and out of sleep for another two hours, amazed and blessed that she was snuggled up safe in my arms.  She isn't a child that is super comfortable with being cuddled, in fact she will often tell you that she is very uncomfortable with even a hug.  The blessings just kept piling up.  

While she slept for another few hours, I got the kitchen ready for cookie backing, I had promised her.  It's been so very long since I've made Christmas cookies and even longer since I've made cutout cookies.  That is all she wanted to do.  There was flour and cookie cutters everywhere she had a bit of help from both myself and grandpa.  My recipe doesn't have any eggs in it, so she was able to happily much away at the scraps as she used the few cutters that gramma still had in addition to her own that she'd brought with her. 

Grampa let her pick where she wanted to do lunch, McDonald's it was (YUCK), she bundled up and helped Grampa run the snow blower for a bit, before the lure of the fresh snow was too much for her and she had to make snow angels. 

The three of us decided to pick up a load of wood, after realizing that the truck needed some weight in it to keep from sliding and we all decided we needed a fire after finding out how bitterly cold it had become. 

Over the course of the day we decorated cookies (although I think she ate most of the icing and decorations), she munched on fresh made jerky and helped me seal it all in food saver bags (that kiddo figured it out instantly and while I stuffed bags she processed them), we did hours worth of arts and crafts and messes abounded. 

I think my heart almost burst with pure joy when she told me she felt bad that mom was at home doing chores but she was having a great time and wanted to stay.  I was blessed to wear the necklaces that she made me (I hope you like this gramma, I tried very hard to do my very best!).  Oh yes sweet angel, I love them and will cherish them always.  And my green paper elf hat is absolutely perfect!

While grampa was at work helping one of his team shovel walks, she helped me fix dinner.  I had been worried that she wouldn't like ham and beans, ends up being one of her absolutely favorite meals. It wasn't until late in the evening, when I suggested that she could stay again, that it dawned on her that she'd been with us for more than 24 hours.  As she started gathering her things, that sweet little dragon told me that she would really, really love to stay, but she had things to do at home and it was time to go.  

I'm pretty sure she thought I wouldn't take her, because she woke her snoozing grampa up and asked him to please drive her home.  Poor guy.  We loaded up Grampa's truck and returned her to her much calmer and more relaxed momma, complete with a promise of more play dates when she comes back from her trip. 

She is a fire filled little dragon, she is full of energy, excitement and a zest for life that knows no limits. If you blink for a moment she transforms into a sensitive, caring, empathetic and intensely intuitive angel.  The perfect mix. 

I didn't know how deeply I needed that time with her.  Driving home last night, with the snow swirling around me, basking in the Christmas lights all around, I sort of felt like a character in a sappy Hallmark Christmas movie.  Ya know that moment when they realize their greatest gift had just been given to them.

The traditions are wonky and out of order. Finding bits of icing all over the kitchen island and the floor while cleaning up the dragon "glitter" (not messes) from every room, filled me with hope and promise.  It healed my heart.  

last time I baked Christmas cookies... it's the OG
from 11 years ago...(same age as her little sister)

The spirit of Christmas showed up disguised as a little impish dragon with a head full of unruly curls and fire in her eyes.  

I'm definitely counting my blessings on this day before the night before Christmas.  And even more thankful that our Christmas season will stretch into the new year. 

The fire has almost burned out and it's time to get busy.  I have a few things to finish yet before I sit down and relax.  

love and prayers... and Christmas miracles to each of you...

remember, remember...

It's Memorial day.  I have been part of so many wonderful, meaningful celebrations of this day over the span of my life.  I have spent this weekend taking scouts to Normandy and participating in laying wreaths in a small cemetery in France. I have placed flags and honored those that willingly gave up their lives so that our freedoms could be protected. Today is about those that paid the ultimate price.  

Yet, here I am sitting at home wondering how many in this country still honor and respects that.  I don't see any advertisements for celebrations or memorials.  There are signs everywhere to take advantage of sales as if that is something that is going to honor the men and women that lost their lives.  

I won't be going shopping or taking advantage of those huge sales.  It feels dirty and completely disrespectful.  I am going to take this day and do like I do most days, honor their sacrifices by working hard to live my best life, to take care of business and hold tight to the values that they fought so hard for. 

I think when you have walked national cemeteries (I highly recommend Normandy and Luxembourg), when you have led a group of 4-6th graders down the coast of Normandy and observed the silence of the waves crashing along the remains of the cement boats that brought them to their deaths, when you have witnessed the tank stoppers and seen the high cliff that was scaled at Pointe du Hoc on a cold, rainy morning.  I have led those same boys through the now quiet fields in Bastogne, where the infamous Battle of the Bulge occurred. We walked, learned and prayed where those lives ended.  You understand on a deeper level the sacrifice and loss.

I celebrate my freedoms, despite the fact that so many have forgotten what they are and seem willing to lay them at the feet of anyone that wants to take them like trophies in a battle. I'm not someone willing to do that.  Maybe it's because of the fact that every generation of my family has had someone serve to defend them.  Maybe it's because I have read the constitution and lived in places that don't have those same protections. 

In any case, today is a special day.  It's a solemn day of remembrance.  It's not the day to go and look for appliances at 30% off or whatever the stupid sales are about.  I understand that folks are struggling right now.  I completely get it.  I went to do our monthly grocery and supply shopping yesterday, I looked at the shelves that are sparsely filled, observed the ridiculous prices, made changes to our purchasing plans due to either lack or costs.  I put gas in my little car, and choked a bit at the price, was it really less than two years ago that it was so cheap? 

I'm not saying don't go take advantage of every sale you can find if it is something that you need.  But honor this day.  Take a moment to thank those that have passed on, it was their lives that allow us to continue to live and fight another day for the glorious freedoms we have. Even those of us that no longer understand the value of their gifts. 

Today, will be much like most of my days now.  I am engrossed in canning healthy food for Hubs and I, creating things that are not filled with chemicals and ingredients that are detrimental to our health.  I will do my chores, tend my garden, find time to knit and maybe even enjoy a dinner out with friends. I will continue to work hard on being as self-sufficient as possible.  To make decisions that will help us to navigate these times we are living in.  

I feel we are being treated like the frog in the boiling water, the temperature was slowly being increased and we were becoming numb to the effects.  Now I fear that so many are numb to the point they are willingly allowing the abuses and harm that is being inflicted.  The temperature simply keeps going higher and higher and too many are willingly being boiled alive without trying to fight for their rights and freedoms.  

I'm not that person.

I will never be that person.  I am hurting for those that are.  I have a strong need and desire to stay busy.  To push back the only way that I know how.  That is by becoming less and less reliant on what they are telling me I must buy and or do and by becoming more reliant on what my heart and spirit know I must do. I live in the suburbs, I will never raise my own meats, I don't have enough room for a full on garden, although I would willingly do it if I could, I am currently not allowed to have chickens for eggs (but who knows if that will be a forever thing) so I am still reliant to a degree.  But that degree is getting smaller all the time. 

Yesterday Hubs and I started to pick up napkins.  Something that seems so basic.  As we looked at the prices and availability we made the decision to switch to cloth napkins.  I do laundry anyhow, a few extra cloths are not going to be an issue.  I offered to make them, I have plenty of fabric.  Hubs felt I have plenty to keep me busy right now, so we decided to purchase the initial ones.  Found them pretty darn cheap and it's a start.  As I get more organized I will make us more. 

It's the little things that are leading up to a peace of mind.  I'm working hard, but I am working hard because it does bring me peace.  It brings me comfort to know that while I can't stop what is going on around me, I can choose to not participate in the insanity to a large degree.  I am enjoying the sense of control that these small efforts are bringing to me.  Ironically, some of these efforts are what would be considered "green" or sustainable.  

In a way, I feel like I am fighting a battle for freedom in a manner that I am able to do.  What are your thoughts? It's time to get busy... don't forget to honor the precious gift that has been given to you by those that have gone before.

love and peace...