a poem by Olivia, age 12 1/2

Someday


Doesn't it seem like Someday
Is a very important day?
I'll do this
And we'll do that
Everything will be okay.
Your dreams come true
And mine do, too--
Bad habits fade away.



I probably won't still be here, alas
When Someday comes to pass.
But if you're still here
Please humor me, dear
And send a letter
from wherever you are?



I bet things will come to be
On Someday, that I'll never see
But I can imagine
The things that will happen
During the Someday Jubilee:


Grandma would get to see London
Mom would exercise
I would follow my dream
And learn to sing
And Dad would get a job.


But singing's not an option
For I will be long dead
But I can wonder, now
Ideas will fill my head
Of what will happen on Someday
It will be great, I bet.


So Someday's something I won't see
But if you happen to stop by
Won't you buy a cheesy postcard
For a dreamer such as me?


***
(That girl's got my number, I see.)


We went and had tea together, just the two of us, on Saturday. We found a lovely little tea tavern which resides in a circa 1787 house--too perfect:

She has me thinking: what about someday? I know I say that a lot: "someday we'll do that!"...and the unspoken last few words: "...I hope." But Lord knows, I'm realizing that I don't know what's best, so I leave it to the stars to decide what will be and what will not.

And of course, part and parcel of the experience of turning 40 is realizing, along with all that you've done, all that you will never do. But that's okay, because I'm here to tell you that life has a few tricks up her sleeve, and she will lead you to places you never thought you'd be--really, really wonderful places. And I'm so grateful for that...Who was it who said, "We must let go of the life we planned so as to accept the one that's waiting for us."? Joseph Campbell, I think. I finally understand that, now.

So here's to Someday, my dears: and all that it could be!

***

I'm starting a new and wonderful job tomorrow that I'm very excited about. Blogging will be slow, I would imagine, but I know you don't mind. I'll be back soon, though, to tell you all about it.

xoxox!

crazy

Good morning, all!

I used to liken my life (our lives, your life, any life) to a patchwork quilt.

Now I think I'm going to take the image further, and call it crazy.

Lately, I'm just loving the looks of crazy quilts, with their dark Victorian colors, intriguing stitching and stories laid bare, if only one takes the time to look. The crazy quilts of old, the antiques, are really crazy--incorporating ribbon flowers, applique, all manner of stitching, initials, and beautiful, rare fabrics. I love them.

I love them not only for their beauty, which has only recently become apparent to my eye, but also, as with all patchwork, the fact that their mere existence is an homage to thriftiness. All scraps used, and these were often particularly lovely ones: silks, velvets, damask. Not your everyday cotton work shirts or aprons. And then, to gild the lily, these women of yore topped them with fancy stitch work and decorations, when none were really needed. And why not, I have to ask myself? It's wonderful, and it works.

Anyway, I found myself searching on etsy for some items made of old crazy quilts, just to see what modern hands have made from some of these treasures too tattered to be saved. And, not surprisingly, I found some real loveliness:

Crazy quilt bunting, from one of my new faves, enhabiten...

Beautiful jewelry made from crazy quilt scraps from that old blue house. Just lovely.

And sweet little cushion filled with eco-friendly kapok, from Octavi...

Then, of course, there is always the work inspired by the crazy quilt; lovely examples here, here, and, most especially, here. Don't you agree?

And, should you wish to read an in-depth history of crazy quilts ("The evolution of the crazy quilt, as we recognize it today, is a journey that illustrates the triumph of women's imaginativeness and ingenuity in the face of unimaginable trials and tribulations." YUM.) click here.

***

Have a beautiful day, my dears, working with the pieces of your life, embroidering and embellishing as you see fit. Thanks for reading.

xoxox.

faith and other stuff

(added one more thing)

Hello, sweet ones. I'm finding my way, and I only hope the same (or better) can be said for you. Sunlight helps, as do hugs and such. Deep thoughts, like whether it is fair to expect guidance to prove one's faith, or whether it is more that we are asked to have faith first, then the good will come. I did have faith, lots of it, until just a while ago, when it all seemed to flee. As I read in a lovely sermon last night, Jesus did not say, "Here's the evidence, come with me." He said, "Come, and you will see!" First things first, have faith and think not as the world thinks! And why is it that although I have been shown guidance and all the evidence I should ever need, I still wish it to be re-proven every single day? That surely seems unfair. I wouldn't ask that of a loved one, and I certainly shouldn't ask it of God. And yet, I do.

Perhaps because I have a specific result that I am expecting. But as we all know, we don't have a clue as to what is actually best for us--we simply must do our best and carry on, each day, in the most loving and honest way we know how to be. And leave the rest to God, not because it is a cop-out, but because we are not in control. Whether you are a Christian or a Buddhist or a Muslim or an atheist, not one of us can argue with any passion that we are in control of our lives. We simply aren't and that is borne out in every illness, natural disaster and crazy gunman, and more. So. There really is no other choice, is there? Do your best, keep calm, have faith, and get on with it.

So, I'm trying. Because, as in each one of your lives, I have to believe there are bigger forces at work here, and that if I do my part (am I doing my part???) it will all come out right, in the end. "If it isn't right, it's not the end," no? Surely not.

Please feel free to leave your thoughts--you all are always so wise. Much of the wisdom and strength that I have culled from these past months has come from you, and I'm so very grateful for that.

Blessings, this Tuesday! Make it work for the good.

xoxox.

in which i overuse italics

Good morning, my dears!
A grey day here, most suitable for puttering, reading and job-searching via internet (!). I will be participating in all of the above activities, sprinkled with tea-drinking and chocolate-chip-cookie eating. Not that you needed to know that.
***

I found, via beautiful Helen at Objects of Whimsy, the most incredible crochet work this morning. Check it out: Dana Barnes crochets granny squares out of wool roving--to make huge floor coverings. Amazing!:

Can you stand it???  Go here to read all about Dana and her work in the NY Times.  And--added bonus--did you notice the totally buff arms of her assistant who is crocheting for her up there?  I say, exercise + crafting + interior decorating all in one?  Perfect-o.  Just what all us crafters need--calorie burners.  Right?!

The only thing I can't imagine doing is finding all of that wool roving at an affordable price.  But I think she pretty much does it herself, if you read the article.  She goes through washing machines like I go through bottles of cheap wine...something to consider.  Thanks, Helen!
***

Anyhoo, have a super day, sweet ones.  Catch you 'round the bend.

xoxox.

excerpt

"It was a cold, still afternoon with a hard steely sky overhead, when he slipped out of the warm parlor into the open air. The country lay bare and entirely leafless around him, and he thought that he had never seen so far and so intimately into the insides of things as on that winter day when Nature was deep in her annual slumber and seemed to have kicked the clothes off. Copses, dells, quarries, and all hidden places, which had been mysterious mines for exploration in leafy summer, now exposed themselves and their secrets pathetically, and seemed to ask him to overlook their shabby poverty for a while, until they could riot in rich masquerade as before, and trick and entice him with the old deceptions. It was pititful in a way, and yet cheering--even exhilerating. He was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard, and stripped of its finery. He had gotten down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine, and strong and simple. He did not want the warm clover and the play of seeding grasses; the screens of quickset, the billowy drapery of beech and elm seemed best away; and with great cheerfulness of spirit he pushed on toward the Wild Wood, which lay before him low and threatening, like a black reef in some still southern sea."

***

Sofie and I are reading The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame. I had never read it, and am so happy to have finally succumbed. The language is beautiful, and I find myself identifying quite closely with the Mole, for better and for worse!

How about you? Do you have a favorite?

Happy Sunday...

xoxox.

identifying livestock

Hi again, my dears. How is your weekend? We went on a drive today in the country, and I proved my utter unworthiness for the country life by insisting, as we drove by them at 70 mph, that some little shaggy goats with legs a mere 12 inches long were miniature horses. After which point my girls could think of nothing else for the rest of the trip, until we passed them again on the way home and I had to admit my folly.

As Olivia said, "Mom, they weren't even equine."

Ah, well. It's official--I embarrass them. Cool.

***

So, anyway, I thought I'd share what the girls' rooms are becoming these days. They aren't finished (what room ever is?) but they are sweet, I think. Pared down to the basics, at least in terms of the way we used to live, and it feels good. First up, Sofie, age 7, horse-lover, Laura Ingalls Wilder's biggest fan, and friend to dolls everywhere...(I know the fairy lights on her bed are a bit over-the-top, but I couldn't help myself. Just ignore them.)


Sofie's desk was her great-grandmother's childhood desk. I'm so glad that she loves it, and we're all grateful that we have it.

I found this horse-fabric-picture-thingy that hangs over her bed (see below for close-up) at the thrift. I've never seen anything like it--it's 3-D...so weird. I told my husband that I paid $1.50 for it, and he agreed that that was about what it was worth. But Sofie loves it, and it adds a certain...vintage...charm, right?

Next, Olivia, age 12, budding writer, politician and champion of the oppressed in any form...

The pictures taped to Olivia's wall are her gallery of left-handed inspiration. (Mona Lisa is a stand in for da Vinci, of course. She's prettier. Oh, and I freely admit to over-doing the masking-tape thing, too. But it's cheaper and quicker than locating frames. I couldn't stand the blank walls anymore!)

Olivia's desk is from a very old school in the area--supposedly it was a teacher's desk, thus the writing on the inside of the drawer? We got it on Craigslist for cheapity-cheap.

Both of the quilts on their bed are, amazingly, from their great-great grandmothers', each from a different side of the family. I can't imagine sleeping under anything better than that, and thankfully, neither can they.

***

Still yet much to do, but this is what it looks like when you start over from scratch. And I'm not complaining, not one bit. It's just different. We used to have a whole downstairs (walk-on) closet filled with toys, not including all the ones in their rooms. Here, it's just what you see--a few books, beloved dolls, and room to breathe, grow and dream. And watch the horses outside the windows...

Hope the rest of your weekend is lovely. All I can say is, be careful when identifying livestock...come to think of it, that's always a good rule, no? :o)

xoxox.

***

p.s. As I look back over this post, I am sooo tempted to delete it. The pictures look so ordinary, nothing blog-worthy, not at all. I know they will never show up on design*sponge or decor8. But you know what? That's okay. They are real life, with the crappy lighting and the hand-me-down items. And real thrift store purchases, the ones you make because you have to, not because it's cool.

And that's our life. And I love it.

Thanks for visiting. xox.

return

(oh! please say hello to my rabbit from das kaninchen!)

Hello, dear friends!  It is lovely to see you.  After a near-complete breakdown, prompted by a flu from which I have yet to fully recover and a crazy trip to the ER for and with my sweet mom, I am home full-time right now.  The job previously described did not suit, either me or my employers.  Suffice it to say, I am enjoying the ever-healing activities of home-puttering, lunching with friends, hugging of family, cooking (and eating) good food, reading excellent books, and sleeping.  Just what the doctor ordered.

Since I have been home, I am enjoying setting things to rights, with liberal sprinklings of thrift purchases and the very-most-loved items brought with us on our journey east.  (The fact that there are so few makes them all the more dear, of course.)  Would you care to see?  Just a bit?  I think you'll find it very much changed from our former abode, and I'll leave it to you to decide whether it's a change for the better.  As for me, I can only say that "it is what it is," and I am...growing to love it. 

Do come in!

(This appears to be a paint-by-numbers tray?  I never heard of such a thing.)

 As in many old homes, storage space is scarce.  Please forgive me for photographing bath tissue.

What to do when the thermostat is in the center of the wall? Act like it's part of the arrangement, I suppose?

I saw this little basket at the thrift store (79 cents) on three seperate occasions, until I just finally brought it home.  It seemed meant to be at that point!

This last picture is hanging right by the back door, so that we all remember not to take ourselves too seriously (who, me?!).

Anyway, that's that.  Tomorrow I will try to get some better pictures of actual rooms, as well as our $150 gold velvet sofa that is so ugly, it's almost cool.  Then, girls' rooms and my frugal wish list.  If you are inclined, please do stop by!

Thanks for reading, sweet ones.  I hope your weekend is filled with joy.

xoxox.