Monthly Archives: July 2010

Strike a pose . . .

My daughter has a gorgeous camera . . . expensive, sophisticated . . . but she says my Easy Share Kodak has many of the advanced features her camera has.  Only problem is I haven't learned how to use them.  Riann has been taking some classes and is willing to share her knowledge with me--my plan is to take her up on her offer.  And I just learned that my friend, Cindy, at Jacob's Reward Farm, is having a photography workshop on September 25th--given by Ellie Ivanova.  I know Ellie has a web site, but I can't find her card to list it for you.  But here's a link to a few of her photos--she does gorgeous, over the top beautiful work!  Ellie's photos.  I'll definitely be attending that workshop!

In the meantime, here are a couple of the photos I took this morning.

I can't remember when we planted this apple tree . . but it was at least ten years ago.  This is the first time we've gotten anything close to real, edible fruit.  In fact, there are two apples I spotted on the tree!  I'm embarrassed to say that I just noticed them this morning when I took Mac out.  But you can be sure I'll be watching more closely now to make sure they're "safe."

I think it was even longer ago that we planted these day lilies. In fact, I remember that Riann was a brownie at the time because I was her troop leader and one of the mothers gave me the bulbs.  So it was probably 25 years ago (or more) that these bulbs were planted . . . and they're still flowering.  Amazing!

Does anybody know what these are?  They're in our butterfly garden on the north side of our house.  I came home one Saturday and Big Daddy had planted this beautiful garden.  I've enjoyed it so much.  I thought it was cool that there was still dew on this flower when I took the picture this morning.  Very peaceful.
These beauties are in the back yard--around the pool.  Again, I don't know what they're called, but aren't they pretty?
And the day just wouldn't have been complete if I hadn't included a look-see at the pictures I took at my niece's house last weekend.  Stacy, and her husband Dell, have two of the cutest kiddos I've ever seen.  Elizabeth is five months old and the happiest, sweetest girl ever.  What a little lover.

And JD could.not.be.cuter!!!  What a sweet, precious boy--and he is all boy!  Look at that beautiful head of hair.  Did I say he couldn't be cuter?  Adorable!!














Cute kids, beautiful flowers, marvelous fruit . . . but don't you agree I need photo lessons?  This coming from a photographer's daughter? 

Speaking of fiber . . .

I vacuumed yesterday . . . at least I tried to vacuum.  For some reason, my Oreck just wasn't picking up the way it should and there was a strange sound.  So I unplugged it and turned it over.

Wowsers!!

We've had this Oreck for about a year now (it's our second), and I'm sure I haven't turned it over--ever.  And boy was I missing a lot.

You're looking at the roller brush, completely enclosed in fiber.  There was barely a bristle that was showing through all the fibery goodness.  Did I say it was enclosed in fiber???  Guess I'll be changing my habits and removing fiber pieces from the floor before vacuuming from now on!!  Yikes.

Fiber phenomonon . . .

My introduction to fiber began when I was maybe four or five years old.  My mother gave me a piece of cotton, a needle, embroidery thread, scissors, and a hoop.  The cotton was printed with a house, gobs of flowers, and the saying "a man's house is his castle."  I finished it.  It was quite cute, actually, although certainly not professionally done.  The wrong side looked like a whirling dervish had done a number on it (what a mess!). 

I began sewing clothes when I was about 11.  My mother had bought a new sewing machine and I was intrigued with it.  I made an a-line skirt as my first number--cotton, sky blue.  It turned out OK, and led to a lifetime of sewing--made baby clothes, blankets, coats, prom dresses, even made a wedding dress once (wow, what a job!).  I was lucky I had a high school that had the full range of sewing classes and a sewing teacher who was brutal--Mrs. Krosky--who never allowed a mis-stitch to leave her classroom.  In other words, if it wasn't right, you redid it.  Can't tell you the number of "redo's" I did in my four years of high school.  When I was in the throes of making prom dresses, however, I said a prayer for her and thanked God she had taught me so well--no patterns for this girl, fit to the girl, and nearly couture (I still have one of the dresses to prove it).

So when my kiddos were born, I began to do needlepoint, inspired by my sweet Aunt Barbara.  She made beautiful piano bench covers hand painted to match her draperies, backgammon boards, and needlepoint tennis shoes custom created for the wearer.  What an inspiration she was! 

And through it all, I knit.  I loved knitting.  Well, really, let's be honest here:  I really loved the fiber, and loved the fabric it created after it was knit.  I learned to love the knitting part.  And, of course, in the past six months or so, I've learned another step in the creation process:  spinning. 

Cindy, of the ever famous Jacob's Reward Farm in Parker, TX, has been my enabler (bless her!).  I bought a share of her CSA and then found out it came in the form of roving (unspun fiber), so I had to learn to spin.  I also found out about Spinderella's Fiber Mill from Cindy (they process Cindy's fiber for her before she metes it out to her shareholders).

I emailed Lynn awhile back and asked her if two pounds of her thrums would spin up to enough fiber for a sweater.  She assured me it would.

I got the package and it seemed a little on the small side, but I'd never seen a box of two pounds of fiber before, so I wasn't too worried . . .

When I opened the box, the fiber literally popped out of the box--like a big ol' jack-in-the-box, except the good kind.
So I  began to spin, spin, spin . . .

And ply, ply, ply . . .














Coming up with this fabulous fiber . . .
















All ready to knit!
I've still not completed quite enough for the sweater I'll make for Phil (Big Daddy), but it's well on its way.  Really do love this fiber.  Of course, I'm told that it's mostly alpaca, which is my favorite fiber on earth to date, so how could I not love it!! 

Spin on!!

The will of God . . .

My friend, Gracia, sent this to me yesterday.  I reread it this morning and loved it so much.  It was really meant to be a chain letter, which I responded to, but it holds its own on its own, don't you think.

'The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.'

Red socks . . .

When I was at Apple Leef Farm awhile back, I bought some undyed sock yarn intending to throw it in the dye pot when I dyed my Red Scarf Project.  Keep in mind that I've had my undyed scarf yarn and the dye for quite a long time . . . well, since Susie Gibbs announced the project back in May. 

I tightly twisted the two hanks of undyed Panda Bamboo/Wool/Nylon.  I soaked them for an hour or so before putting them in the dye pot.  Wow . . . the red is there, but so are about a gazillion other shades from the lightest toe-shoe pink to the brightest watermelon.  In fact, my granddaughter was eating watermelon as I was photographing the yarn, so I put her bowl of fruit next to the yarn so you could see just how similar they are.  Beautiful . . .

I can absolutely say that this is exactly the color I wanted . . . I just wonder if I could ever replicate it.  Do you think?

I can hardly wait to start in on my variegated red/pink/coral socks.  Yum . . . they look good enough to eat!!

xoxo

Greta Garbo, Zen Master


Greta Garbo showed up as a fictional character in a book, and we got interested in her. We didn't remember seeing her movies, but we had seen that face. Of course. So we asked the kids at the local video store and they recommended Queen Christina. Wonderful film about a woman who abdicates from the throne to live an ordinary life. We have followed up with Anna Christie, better in the German than in the English, and a couple of her silent films. They say that she was so expressive that she needed fewer written words to describe her action and dialogue than any other actor.

On film she is mesmerizing and magnificent. She glows in front of the camera. When I started to read Garbo by Barry Paris, an exhaustive bio for those interested, I didn't know what to expect. In life she was kind of...dull. She seemed to lack direction, and needed people around her to decide which films she would make and how she would invest her money. In Hollywood she lived with a couple of guys, but didn't have any interest in marriage or settling into one spot. She moved around a lot. She didn't read much, and was not known to have "big thoughts". And most of all she is famous for having said about the starstruck fans chasing her "I want to be left alone."

Then why do I say she was a Zen Master? Because she did all this with an astonishing lack of ego. The makeup people made her look good for the camera, but she did not preen at herself. She seemed to have no obsession with how she looked on screen, letting costar John Gilbert always show his best side to the camera regardless of how she looked. She hated to rehearse, though she was letter perfect in memorizing dialogue. She just became the characters she played and with minimal fuss showed in her face and the lift of an eyebrow a lifetime of emotion.

And then she let it go. She had been a huge star, but never liked star trappings. She didn't like Hollywood parties where she would be on display as "Garbo". (Though she had little physical modesty and swam nude in her friends' pools.) She disliked fans coming up to her on the street for autographs, trying to get a piece of her personality for themselves. She usually said no. It's not that she was angry, it was that she just didn't care and didn't see why she should do anything that didn't interest her.

She just drifted out of film making. She lived in New York and traveled and walked a lot, and then stayed at home and watched Matlock on TV. She could have seemed depressed, but that didn't seem to be it. She was disinterested. She had few passions - not men or ideas or drugs or shopping. She was not motivated by the approval of others and did not feel the need to please them. She had many long term friendships but she was always less invested in the relationships than others were.

She was, to use a Zen word, detached. If you imagine being gifted in your youth with such talent and beauty that the world wanted access to you, how would you respond? Could you keep your ego out of it and not think how great you were based on others' opinions? Could you let fame and fortune go when you felt it was right and give up the applause? Could you look at your own beauty in the mirror and not take it personally? Garbo was able to do that.

So in the end, I'm not sure I would have been her friend, but I am moved by the way she lived her life. She did not let the world's opinion of what she ought to do keep her from following the path she felt pulled to. Eat when you are hungry, sleep when you are sleepy, act when someone puts you in a movie, as the old Zen teaching goes (sort of). And when the part calls for sadness you are sad, and when it calls for joy, you radiate your light through the lens, through the projector, to whoever is watching the film. And then you let it go.

P.S. She was also the perfect height, 5'7 1/2" and was mad about lingonberries. But I don't take these coincidences personally.

Too. Hot. To. Blog.

But I will take just a teensy moment to complain:

A GROUNDHOG HAS DISCOVERED MY GARDEN AND APPARENTLY 102 IS NOT TOO HOT FOR GROUNDHOG PICNICS.
ok, done.

Independence!

It seems that, unknown to me, I ended up in a pretty interesting place to spend Independence Day.  The Village of Fishkill is right next to Hopeless Junction and Fishkill was a hotbed of revolutionary activity back in the day.

The people I’m visiting have lots of books and they gave me two to read before we went out to see the sights.  (Did you know I can read?  Well, I can, and it’s a good thing, too.)  Here’s me with my assigned reading matter.

They actually gave me a quiz to make sure I’d done my homework!  (Where have I landed this time??!!??  What was THAT about??!??)  I must have passed because I got to visit Trinity Church in Fishkill, NY.  The church was organized in 1768 and the New York Provincial Congress attempted to meet there in 1776.  Since the building was under construction, there were no windows and birds were flying about, so the Provincial Congress moved down the block to the First Reformed Church of Fishkill.  That church had windows!  After the politicians moved out, they moved in some soldiers who were suffering from smallpox and the church became a hospital.  I wonder how the poor, sick  soldiers managed with the birds.  Here’s me again looking at the historical marker for Trinity Church.

On a visit to Trinity Church’s churchyard, I found a very old grave marker.  WOW!

They took me to see a lot of other old buildings, but, honestly, I was getting pretty bored and I don’t remember anything much about them.  I do think this old church and the churchyard were pretty cool and I’m glad I read those books, too.

At night we saw a lot of local fireworks.  They were awesome and I’m thinking I might like to become a pyrotechnician when I finish my trip and go back to Chappy (happy birthday, little brother Chappy) and my family in New Jersey.


Independence!

It seems that, unknown to me, I ended up in a pretty interesting place to spend Independence Day.  The Village of Fishkill is right next to Hopeless Junction and Fishkill was a hotbed of revolutionary activity back in the day.

The people I’m visiting have lots of books and they gave me two to read before we went out to see the sights.  (Did you know I can read?  Well, I can, and it’s a good thing, too.)  Here’s me with my assigned reading matter.

They actually gave me a quiz to make sure I’d done my homework!  (Where have I landed this time??!!??  What was THAT about??!??)  I must have passed because I got to visit Trinity Church in Fishkill, NY.  The church was organized in 1768 and the New York Provincial Congress attempted to meet there in 1776.  Since the building was under construction, there were no windows and birds were flying about, so the Provincial Congress moved down the block to the First Reformed Church of Fishkill.  That church had windows!  After the politicians moved out, they moved in some soldiers who were suffering from smallpox and the church became a hospital.  I wonder how the poor, sick  soldiers managed with the birds.  Here’s me again looking at the historical marker for Trinity Church.

On a visit to Trinity Church’s churchyard, I found a very old grave marker.  WOW!

They took me to see a lot of other old buildings, but, honestly, I was getting pretty bored and I don’t remember anything much about them.  I do think this old church and the churchyard were pretty cool and I’m glad I read those books, too.

At night we saw a lot of local fireworks.  They were awesome and I’m thinking I might like to become a pyrotechnician when I finish my trip and go back to Chappy (happy birthday, little brother Chappy) and my family in New Jersey.


Meeting the Natives

After spending some days regaining my energy (I slept a lot and had sheepy  dreams of all the wonderful things I’ve seen and done since I left home last fall), I ventured out of my quarters here in Hopeless Junction.  What should I find awaiting me, but a couple of kitties.  They were very happy to meet me.

They were mostly polite, except that Beth did take some liberties I didn’t like.

Although she said she didn’t mean anything by it, I had to set her straight.  I don’t think we’ll have any more of THAT while I’m here.

There is some kind of celebration planned.  I’m told I’ll learn all about it.  I think I’ll have a glass of beer and then take another nap before that starts.