Author: 459856pwpadmin

  • Bethia’s Crossing

    The meetings between cultures are rarely smooth, easy and gentle.  They are more often defined by sharp clashes and rocky shoals, filled with tide pools and unknown currents.  The path of those who attempt to make the crossing is often filled with struggle and danger, both clearly present and hidden.   So too is the life of those who live along these boundaries, due either to circumstances or natural inclination.  

     

    Screen shot 2011-05-31 at 7.41.23 AM Such is the story of both Caleb Cheeshahteaumauk, the first Native American to graduate from Harvard College, and Bethia Mayfield, the preternaturally bright and intellectually curious daughter of a minister on Martha's Vineyard, as designed and told by Geraldine Brooks in her novel Caleb's Crossing.   Bethia, who tells Caleb, her name means servant,  yearns for the education granted unquestionably to her brother and chafes at the limitations of a society where "servant" is a more fitting description of a woman's role than is the word "scholar".  Caleb leaves the life he has known and tries to understand these new people and their view of life, crossing into Puritan culture and life.

     

    It is Bethia's voice we hear in this story as she recounts how she an Caleb meet, and the story told is as much her story, how she manages to find her own way through the rocky paths of adolescence to a stable and happy place in society, as it is Caleb's.  Caleb is her friend and his journey is the framework around which Bethia's story is told.  It is a warm, gripping, and touching story and I will not recount it here.   

     

    Geraldine Brooks manages to create in Bethia a touching, character who is both familiar to modern readers and yet not at all modern,  a character firmly planted in the 17th century and yet not, a character to whom we could begin to understand, but who definitely looks at the world in a way that we do not.  The conclusions Bethia draws from episodes in the book are not the conclusions I would draw, which is as it should be. It is a sensitive portrait, well told and very engaging.  At times perhaps the author is a bit forceful in driving her points home, but then again, there was very little subtlety in Puritan Belief and thought so I found it forgivable.  

     

    I truly enjoyed this book.  One could say I devoured it, hungrily burying myself in the story.  But not only was it a good read, parts of it have stuck to my own rough edges, and keep coming back and haunting me thoughts.  I've not read any of Geraldine Brooks' other novels.  Perhaps I should.

  • And So Summer Begins

    I'm spending the day working in the garden.

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    Hope you are having a wonderful day.

  • New (Old) Sewing Table

    The trouble with letting things go for a long period is not that you eventually have to catch up with everything, but that sometimes, just when you think you are gaining the upper hand something lets go on you and you are plunged back into chaos.

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    Monday the sewing table collapsed, strewing sewing machines, buttons, thread, and various other things I about the room in a loud clatter.    This time it wasn't my fault, or I don't believe it was; I hadn't neglected anything.  I had sturdy legs under the table; I had used them for years under my desk, and they had been in the basement where G thought he would use them when he rebuilt his workbench, a task he never managed to get to.  They were adjustable by a large screw handle that held them in place.  Apparently the threads of the screws gave way and the table collapsed, apparently worn down over the years and the locks no longer hold.

     

    Vika-moliden-leg-nickel-plated__0104920_PE252090_S4 Between cleaning up the mess, making a trip to Ikea in New Jersey, and just dealing with other previously scheduled activities, it has been a busy week, but I managed to get the table back together.

    I believe the new configuration is an improvement.  The metal legs, Vika-Moliden have a much smaller footprint than my original table legs, which will give me much more room to work, and the other cabinet, Vika-annefors, gives me some much needed storage space and is narrow enough that I will still have room for three machines on the table.  

    Vika-annefors-table-leg-with-storage-white__0087437_PE216748_S4 Leg space was always an issue in the old sewing room as I had bigger cabinets under the countertop, and the table served as my desk as well.  It was usually far too crowded for effective work of any kind.

    As you can see in the top photograph, the unfinished end of the countertop is now exposed, as it was in the opposite corner in the old sewing room.   I have a plan to a compact sewing table that fold up in that location, giving me a little more workspace and hiding the unfinished end.  Two of the original cord holes are no longer functional either, but I have a gap at the back of the counter where I will run the cords so it doesn't matter.  I can live with the black rubber cord holders, maybe they will work as cup holders so that the cats don't keep knocking my beverages over as they chase each other across the table.

     

    Next I need to get the sewing machines back up on the table, and thoroughly inspect them and hope that they still function.  I am a bit worried that crashing to the floor did not do them any good.   

     

     

  • Essentials

    What:  Green Turquoise Necklace by Patricia von Muselin

     

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    Why: Although generally I do best with the cool greens, there are certain yellow greens that are very good on me.  They bring out the greens in my eyes, they balance the pinky-blue-lilacs in my skin.  This green is one of those greens, as are certain shades of olive, and a particular green that my brother dubbed "urpy green" when we were children.

     

    This green makes me happy.  It is a spring green and I see it primarily as a summer necklace.  Summer is hard for me.  Many of the large dramatic pieces I am drawn too seem to be too much in the summer.  But this is not too much.  It plays well with white, and soft blues, and all the purples and lavenders that populate my wardrobe.

     

    As you can see, it is a very close match to my new alpaca scarf.  In fact, it was the necklace that inspired me to make the scarf.  I would sit in the yarn shop knitting and talking to my friends and I would stare at that green alpaca, thinking to myself that it was the same color as that green necklace and wouldn't a green scarf be just the perfect thing.  And so it is.

  • Spring Green

    IMG_4919 I have a weakness for bright spring green.  It is not the best color to wear near my face, but I do anyway once in a while.  I can get very stubborn that way at times.  But it is a great accent color for both home and wardrobe.

     

    I had been eyeing a particular bit of green yarn at my LYS for some months when I finally broke down and bought some in late April.  I started knitting it right away but somehow made very slow progress.  I would knit and unknit and knit again.  I think I was just suffering from the general stress and turmoil in my house.   It seems like a month is a long time for a scarf; it feels like it took me forever.

     

    IMG_4928 This week however I was knitting like a woman possessed.  A week ago I had just finished knitting the first skein, the scarf was only half done, and I felt like it would never end.  

     

    Yarn:  Aslan Trends Royal Alpaca, 2 skeins.

     

    Needle Size:  7 (US)

     

    Pattern: 4 stitch repeat of K2, YO, K2Tog, bound by garter stitch panels on the side and ends. My scarf is 48 stitches wide, decided simply because that was the width that pleased me.

  • Relief

    Yesterday I hung the pots back up in the kitchen.

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    Such a small thing.  And yet it is not small, not small at all.  

     

    Until we had someone in the house that G actually likes and trusts, someone whom I actually like and trust, I hadn't really recognized how stressed I truly was.  Our home feels like our home again.  

     

     

  • Alas Old Shoes I Loved You Well

    IMG_4849 I was going to put up another "essentials" post this morning, showing these favorite shoes, purchased in 1985 or 1986, and worn every summer since, but alas, when I went to wear them yesterday, I discovered that they were too small.  This should not come as a surprise, I have written about how my feet have grown and many pairs of beloved shoes have been sent off to find new homes, and yet it was a surprise, as these shoes somehow occupied a sphere apart from that place in my head and heart labeled shoes.

     

    The simple truth is that they are a size 8 and I am now a 9, sometimes a 9 1/2.  How they survived this long is a mystery as I haven't worn an 8 since I was in my 20's but I do believe that perhaps they did indeed still fit during those many years where I wore an 8 1/2.  But not now. My feet overflow them like Cinderella's evil step-sisters' feet in the glass slippers, and I've always harbored a tiny kernel of disdain for women whose feet are obviously overflow too small shoes.  I can't join their sisterhood now.

     

    They have a few dings and dents but are otherwise in good shape.  I'm am sure they will find a new home. It would certainly gladden my heart were I ever so lucky as to see them walking down the street someday gracing a new pair of feet.

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Kathleen Winter’s Annabel

    4193NQWqB7L._SL500_AA300_ I have just finished reading Kathleen Winter's novel Annabel, and am still rather stunned by the experience. Richly-worded, poignant, touching, and redemptive, although not in that all-too-easy, pat kind of ways that many novels tend to slide into, but with a hard earned and ultimately more rewarding redemption, it is a treasure of a novel, one I wish to hold close to me and dip into again and again.

     

    Annabel is the story of an only child, born a true hermaphrodite, into a harsh world, a world where roles are strictly defined.  Arbitrarily it seems, the decision is made, by the father, Treadway, that the child will be a boy. It would have been very easy for Kathleen Winter to portray Treadway as a harsh man but even from the beginning we see his softer edges and we realize that he is acting in what he believes are his sons best interests, and that his motivation is for protection and adaptation in a world that he sees as, in many ways sharply delineated.

     

    This arbitrary assignment of gender to a child is very disconcerting, and from the beginning, in the hospital where the child is surgically rendered male, we see this need for self-justification and convincing of the rightness of the decision, which really does not seem that clear at all.  

     

    But of course, things aren't that simple.   This rending of the child in two, the outer Wayne and the inner Annabel, has profound repercussions, both for the child who tries to be a good child to both his parents despite his increasing confusion, and his parents.  Treadway has only meant the best for his son, and was convinced that his decision was the best way for his child to face living in a world that can be very harsh in its expectations, but in building up his son, he comes very close to sacrificing his daughter.  

     

    Although Jacinta and Treadway muddle through for years, when Wayne/Annabel leaves for the city, they seem to fall apart.   Treadway wishes to retreat more to the combined physical/spiritual world of nature where he is not faced with the pain of the fact that despite his best intentions and his best efforts, he has not "made it right".  Jacinta seems to fall apart completely, but the truth is that she has been slowly disintegrating since that day in the hospital, where the incisions to render her child a boy seems to have cut into her very soul. 

     

    Shortly after the surgery, sitting with a friend who has lost a husband and daughter, we have this conversation:

       'If a stranger came here now' Jacinta said, 'they would guess I was the one who had lost a man and a daughter.

    'You won't lose Treadway unless you want to lose him.  Treadway is a husband for life.' 

    'I know.'

    'But it looks to me like I am not the only one who has lost a daughter.'

    'I've always felt,' Jacinta said, 'that daughter is a beautiful word.'

    And later, when an event has occurred that has lead to the loss of her child's innocense, Jacinta berates herself:

     

        "I am dishonest.  I never tell the truth about anything important.  And as a result, there is an ocean inside me of unexpressed truth.  My face is a mask, and I have murdered my own daughter"

    But Wayne does go out into the world, as children do, and begins to find his own path despite opposition and even hurt and pain.  Seeing and accepting his son, and experiencing for the first time the rage of a father against a man who has hurt his daughter, Treadway is forced to reconcile his own feelings and actions with what he knows of the world.  Jacinta has been mourning the loss of a daughter for years, even as she loves the son.  Only when Treadway finds his daughter and makes room for her in his heart can he begin to mend, in his own quiet way, the wounds in his marriage.

     

    I highly recommend this novel.  Kathleen Winter takes an exception to what we perceive as normal and forces to question our own perceptions and assumptions, while at the same time telling a compelling story, that is touching, heart-rending, and compelling.  She takes a family and a life and tells it in a way, that it can touch any life, in the best tradition of story-telling.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Essentials

    What:  Banana Republic Floral Silk Tee

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    Why:  When I bought this tee in the Spring of 2009, I was desperate for some tops that fit and that were just plain pretty.  It is a little bit looser on me now, and I did, in fact consider giving it away last fall, but I couldn't.  I'm glad I kept it.  Wearing it brings me joy and makes me feel pretty. It is very thin, thinner than I would usually buy in a tee, but the combination of thin silk and thin cotton knit works here.  The wide scoop neck and the soft drape make it very cool and feminine without being frilly.   In the past I've only worn it with chinos, but I see heretofore unrecognized possibilities.

     

     

     

  • A Change is Coming

    IMG_4823 I had to sew today.  I absolutely had to sew today.    And I have very little to show for it — 12 little pieces of ribbon sewn on a stack of towels.  But for this I had to clear a corner of the table to set up the machine.  For this I had to empty out several boxes, cursing under my breath, as I wondered where I had put the power cord for the sewing machine.  But it was a significant gesture for me, an action filled with promise both because it required sewing, even if only in a temporary sort of space, and because putting new towels in the kitchen cabinet also is an act of promise on the home front as well.

     

    IMG_4825 Tomorrow is aide transfer day, a day I have been looking anticipating for a long long time.  I thought it would be today, but I learned that this was a misunderstanding.  I got the word from the current aide, that it would be Tuesday, although he now denies this.  I should not be surprised.  I remember the discussion well, but I would say that our soon to be ex care person has a tenuous grasp of facts.  I say this remembering how many times we argued last week about whether April 25th had been on Friday, as he insisted, or Monday.  But this is the least of it.  Suffice it to say that our aide is well meaning and has good intentions.  Also let it be known that good intentions are most emphatically not enough.

     

    IMG_4833 Although I have learned to take "common sense" with a, pardon the cliché, "grain of salt", I am constantly reminded of that old proverb, which G used to love to quote:

     

    "He who knows not and knows not that he knows not, is a fool….Shun him."

     

    In short, I can expect that people who grew up with different experiences to know and see the world differently than I.  I recognize that what I think of as "common knowledge" might not be at all common for those who grew up in wildly different environments.  But I do expect a certain ability to adapt, and ability to listen to explanations and to learn, and sensitivity to our wishes and the reasoning behind them.

     

     

    IMG_4832 Not that life will be perfect.  All problems will not disappear.  I do not expect this.  At this point I only hope for less stress.  That, in and of itself, will be a blessing.

     

    I have learned that I do not suffer fools gladly, and the pressure to be kind and considerate and tolerant has been more difficult than I expected.  

     

    But it is spring.  Beauty is around us.  I shall hope for better both from my spouse's next aide and from myself.