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Category: Hunting and Gathering

Playing with Color and Pattern

The dining table is covered in china. Old and new, a mixture of styles, periods, qualities, the accumulated bits and pieces tell a story and create a history. When I loaded these things into the car I was not sure what I would do with the pieces. As I opened the boxes and placed pieces on the table, mixing them with pieces I already owned, I was surprised at the many ways all these disparate bits fit together and made new connections.

Rather than create a panoramic shot, I intentionally made a collage because I am intrigued by the sometimes surprising ways things mix together. I am also intrigued by questions of taste and style and the way our style is a reflection of the accumulated influences of our lives and the people we have become. Hence, you also get the headless photo of me as well as the china. But more about that later.

Style in dress shows the self we wish to present to the world. Increasingly I think our homes also could reflect ourselves, although in a more intimate and private way. Also our homes may be shared, reflecting influences of those we love, and the meeting of these influences and choices is also a more personal interaction. As for me, I am realizing that my love of pretty dishes is where I let my more romantic inclinations run freely. Tables are for sharing with others. But I also think the act of setting a table, of putting out china and glassware, of making it pretty, rather than merely functional, is a very romantic thing. I like the romance of the meal, not just the nutrition offered by the food.

But this idea of romance and style, the personal and the public, and the way our environments and our choices in those environments reflect aspects of ourselves, remains a relatively new chain of thought. I have formed no cogent conclusions. And yet I see a portrait forming. And although I recognize it as a portrait of myself, I also recognize that the image that is emerging does not coincide with the words I would have previously used to describe myself. Am I so bad at self awareness? Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. It may be a question of acceptance, of accepting this softer side, of allowing vulnerabilities to show.

Or I may just be full of baloney.

On this table there are dishes belonging to my great-grandmother, my grandmother, and my mother. There are dishes that George and I chose together, dishes George bought for me as gifts, things I chose myself. There are dishes with direct ties to memory, and others that really mean nothing to me, that have no significance other than the fact that they were on my table. My mother wanted to downsize. I still like to play with pretty things and set pretty tables. I chose the pieces I would take so it is not surprising that they should work together. Many of the pieces are not strong, dramatic, full of contrast. I am not a person who loves high contrast. I am not a person who loves white plates, although I did indeed go through a brief period where I thought I did. It wasn't that I wanted white plates, what I wanted was clarity, and that is another story.

I like the way the pieces work together, sharing similar colors and shades, without bold pops of color, without high contrast and drama. I don't like full sets of china, all the pieces belonging together, but I do like things that work together. This is also how I like to dress. I like color and I like to coordinate, but I don't want to be either too matchy-matchy or to wear too much contrast. Hence the headless outfit. My feet won out over my head because I love the way the soft colors of the outdoor carpet harmonize with the colors of the concrete, adding subtle gradations of texture and color, just as I also love the way my grandfather's planters and the flowers blend with the bricks and the door and the reflections of greenery in the window to make a harmonious whole. It struck me today that the things I love and even who I am and the choices I make all arise out of my own personal history and decisions, but that the origins of these things have roots in the histories and the choices of the people who influenced my early life even without my conscious awareness of their influence.

Welcome to my front door. Welcome to my house, my table, my blog, my world. It is not a perfect world, no world is, and there are all kinds of disjointed and inconsistent bits and bobs milling about and a few rough edges here and there. But then rough-edges-are-us, we humans.

The photo can be enlarged with a mouse-click. The small inset photo above my shoulder shows my colors in indoor lighting, where they are softer. Outside the outfit is a little bright, and I feel a little more exposed by its brightness, but hey, those rough edges are always popping out despite our best intentions.

August 15, 2014
Good Friday

A long, long time ago, on the first day of Passover, three men were crucified. The life and words of one of those men changed the world. He was a Jew. The night before he died, following the tradition of his people, he celebrated Passover with his friends, his disciples. At that Seder, some of the words he used, in a ritual tied to tradition, but not necessarily tied to it strictly to the letter, became the basis of a new ritual, the Eucharist celebrated by Christians around the world.

Passover is a ritual of spring, of being spared by death, of exodus, of being freed and saved, which is therefore also a rebirth. Jesus was a Jew and saw himself as a Jew. He spoke to his fellow Jews, but as he also made abundantly clear, he spoke to all people, not just the Jews. Easter, the celebration where Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus is a celebration of rebirth. Spring is the earth’s celebration of rebirth. New bunnies hop around the hill behind my bedroom window. The Easter Bunny will soon be scattering brightly colored eggs for small children to seek out and find. Bunnies and eggs are also powerful symbols of birth and rebirth.

There is a reason we celebrate the transition from winter into spring, from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from death to rebirth. Part of my family is celebrating Passover. Easter falls in the midst of Passover this year, and some of us are focused on the rituals and celebration of Easter. Still others will be content to contemplate bunnies and eggs painted bright colors, perhaps chocolate eggs as well. These traditions may intermingle and overlap. We are all one family and as such we can embrace and accept each other’s traditions.

It seems sad that far too often we humans focus on our differences rather than our similarities. Good Friday, and the events it commemorates, is a reminder of how we let our differences divide and separate us. It is a reminder that we all suffer at times from isolation and pain. But it is also a prelude to rebirth. Perhaps in this season of spring, of rebirth, of awakening, we can all share a moment of joy. There is room for all. We are all one family.

April 18, 2014
Making the Right Choice Requires Asking the Right Questions
There are some lessons that just seem not to stick, that I have to keep learning over and over again. I seem to have relearned one of those lessons this week, and it revolved around that issue of a desk and a chair. Such a simple thing isn't it? Or at least it should be. It seems however, that for me at least, sometimes the biggest lessons are learned from the smallest things.

I was looking for a desk through the eyes of I-as-part-of-a-we, or through the mindset of my former life. I recall that during the first six months or so following George's death I was struggling with identity, and it was a puzzling experience for me. I had thought that I knew who I was. I had strong opinions about many things, and generally knew what I liked and what I didn't. Or so I believed.

In retrospect I see that it was not so simple really. I could see that during those years I was caring for George, I was also struggling with my own frustrations and, sometimes, animosity toward the role of caregiver. I was struggling with how to fit this new perception of my place in the world with my prior perceptions of myself as seen through my marriage, my career, and my role in the world prior to this great reversal. Although George and I shared a sense of the importance of steadfast responsibility and loyalty, there were times when I struggled with having to always be the strong one, the rock, the protector, the comforter. I wanted to be protected again, to be comforted, to be understood, and there were days, weeks, months even, when the protection and comfort and understanding of God seemed far, far away. Yet although I craved comfort, I was afraid to be vulnerable, afraid that if I opened my heart I would fall apart and not be able to live up to the responsibilities that bound me.

It is apparent, to anyone who has followed my blogs over the years, that during that time I was struggling to define and understand myself, and that I was not quite ready to accept the need to do so. I was clinging to the known for fear of getting lost in the unknown. In retrospect, perhaps I was not asking the right questions. I was struggling from a position of "I want" and "I can't" rather than a position of "I can" combined with "I need".

Although I did eventually let go and let vulnerability and faith back in, and I was beginning that process of transformation and rediscovery before George died last May, I was still very much in in a place in-between. And yet I thought I was firmly established on a path toward my future self, even while still acknowledging that my life was in many ways a precarious balancing act between a past and a love that was rapidly fading into the mists and a future life that could not quite be achieved. I was not prepared for the way that George's death would plunge me even deeper into that act of questioning. I was unaware that this one great loss could wrestle up from the depths all those past losses I thought I had resolved, but in fact had only shelved. I had not realzed that this questioning, this becoming, would force me to face my life and see how the world as I experienced it had shaped and altered that person who I was born to be into the person I had been. Nor had I realized that if I truly wanted to move forward, rather than opt out and rest upon some shady bank along the way, I needed to resolve and reintegrate these various aspects of self: the self I was born to be with the self I am in the world.

So how does this affect the choice of a desk, you ask?

Each thing we do in the world, each choice we make, even the choices we refuse to make are a reflection of the complex mapping of ourselves, our history, our place, and our time. We exist in the world, and although we are unique, we are also complexly shaped by the world in which we live. Of course, most of the time, we simply live in the world and do what we need to do with little angst. But occasionally we stumble, and although sometimes we simply right ourselves and move on, sometimes we manage a glimpse of something more.

My search for a desk helped guide me to a few basic realizations:
- First I should not chose a desk because it was one my husband would have also liked, because it would have fit our life, our style, our place in the world.
- Nor of course should I take the reactionary "I always liked x, but he hated it" tack which I see as the foot-stamping, temper-tantrum induced I-want-what-I-want-and-no-one-can-change-it stage, a stage that is not necessarily true to the self but a reactionary, oppositional choice.
- I had to address the WHY of my search for a desk, a question that proved far more complex than I had imagined, tied up as it proved to be with my own definition of who I am now. After all, although my current desk is not ideal, I have been using it for several years. So the question was begging to be asked: Why do I need a new desk?
- When I was working with computer clients, going to grad school, and designing databases and computer systems I used a large desk that basically consisted of a door atop a couple of file cabinets. I could spread out my books, printouts, and ages of materials perfectly happily. But although I loved that career, and at times I have struggled with wanting to update or refresh a few programming language skills or application skills, and although I've often considered looking into reinstating my IEEE and ACM memberships because I miss the connections and learning opportunities they provided, I realize they do not reflect a career path I wish to resume. They are a part of who I am but they do not define where I am going.
- When I first worked in medical billing, and even as an office manager, I had a very small desk, not much bigger than a student desk. It was too small. I was surrounded by piles. When we moved the practice and I moved into a more comprehensive administrative role, I needed a larger desk. But, once again, although I loved my work, loved learning new things and mastering skills I had not appreciated I possessed, I am done with medical practice administration. I have no desire to go back.
- I bought my current desk when I retired to care for my husband. In many ways it is a desk that seems like an afterthought, something I needed, but which did not warrant much space, or thought. I needed a place to put a computer, to pay bills, to write. But although I had published a couple of poems in minor journals while I was in my twenties, and an essay around the same time; although I journaled extensively and wrote a couple of blogs, I did not consider myself a writer
It seems it has taken me this long to accept that this is who I am today, and that accepting who I am means accepting that I need a space that works for what I do. I am a writer. It may not be all that I am. The majority of what I write may be only for myself but that doesn't matter. I don't need external reassurance to prove that I am who I am. I accept that I write. I accept that if I don't give myself time to write I become grumpy and small and cannot be generous with other people because I cannot be generous with myself. I need to accept that I will always spend a lot of time at my desk. I need to accept that this is a part of who I am and it is deserving of attention.

So,I simply went out and bought a desk. It will not be here for two weeks. It is not either of the desks I showed you in that last post. I could ask what I was I thinking, but it is apparent I was not thinking as myself.
February 21, 2014
Dreary Monday and the Search for a Desk

Well, truthfully I don't know if it is dreary yet as the sun is not yet up. It may prove to be a glorious day. But at the moment I feel dreary. Yesterday was a busy day and I didn't drink enough water or go for a walk, opting instead to curl up on the sofa with a cat and my knitting. This morning I have a fair amount of sciatic pain, am plagued with a mild cough, congestion and a sinus headache and am generally dragging myself around the house without enthusiasm. This is the opposite of my normal state of early morning energy and efficiency.

So what measures can be taken to improve the situation? A hot shower is always a good start and gauranteed to open up the sinuses. After that, I would say that I spent too much time at my desk last week, and I should be doing other things today.

What kind of things?

Well, I could go buy a new desk chair, since the one I am using is uncomfortable and surely is not helping my back. My Aeron chair moved upstairs for use at the sewing table, perhaps prematurely, as I am spending more time at my desk than at my sewing machine, and it is too heavy for me to move it back down. The chair I am using is something I let a salesperson convince me would fit my back better, and it was significantly cheaper. I suppose it is remarkable that the salesperson tried to sell me the cheaper chair, but it was a waste of money because I still have to go back and buy the Aeron, which is the best desk and sewing chair that I have ever owned.

So, if I can run downtown and pick up a new chair, why haven't I done so?

I was prepared to run right out and buy a chair in early January. But I also need a new desk. My current desk is too small. It is the perfect length for my use, but at a mere 18" depth, it does not quite offer enough surface space, especially on those occasions I must share my workspace with a feline companion.

Since I know the chair I need, it makes sense to buy it first and get a desk that works with the chair. But then I saw the Elizabeth Writing Desk by Redford House, which can be made in a tarnished silvery-gray color, and it occurred to me that a grey desk with a light grey Aeron chair would look lovely in my office, which has white bookcases on three walls.

This desk fits my requirements. It is exactly the right size. It has drawers, which I am currently lacking. And I like the cabriole legs, which will look pretty with the molding and trim in my office.

So I was stymied over the question of color. Which color Aeron chair should I purchase? Dark or Light? All would have been simple if I could purchase the Elizabeth Writing desk locally. But I can't. I would have to buy it online or through a decorator. It will take time. I don't know enough about furniture manufacturers. I can't see it or touch it first.

So doubts began to set in.

Those doubts were confounded because I also like this desk by Julian Chichester, which I discovered last fall. At that time I was thinking of putting my office in a larger room, and I thought it might be too dominant in the small office. But it is available through a local store and I am more familiar with the manufacturer's other pieces (although I want the smaller version which will have to be ordered).

Plagued by indecision, I simply buried my head in other things and avoided the issue.

Perhaps today I should go out and look at actual desks in local stores, to see if I find something that I like as well or better than either of these choices. If not, I need to make a decision.

Daylight. Time to get going. Procrastination gets me nowhere.

photo credits:

1. Aeron Chair from the Herman Miller Website: Here.

2. Elizabeth Writing Desk. Redford House. Here.

3. Julian Chichester Cortes Desk. Here.

February 17, 2014
The little matchbox girl grows up.

Once there was a girl who liked to build furniture for her Barbie dolls. She started with match boxes but then her repetoire grew and included all kinds of bits and pieces from around the house, including empty thread spools and scraps of fabric. She started counting her pennies and saving bits of her allowance to go peruse the aisles of the local art store, as well as the Ben Franklin, where her head would be filled with dreams and she would find many treasures.

And then she grew up and went to college, met a man, fell in love and got married. But the husband came with a house, a house imbued with the history of a family lost. The old, the dated, even the broken and nonfunctional was caught up in this dysfunctional history, a history that, she was to learn, was long and convuluted.

That girl, a woman now, was me, of course. And for a long time that little girl who built matchbox furniture was lost to me. But the story of how she was lost, for how long, and why is another story, not the story I wish to tell today. Today I am simply happy because she is back.

However the world has changed and I am no longer playing with matchboxes. Rather, realizing that I was floundering somewhat, and didn't quite know what I was looking for, much less where to start, I been virtually shopping on the world wide web and gathering my ideas on Pinterest. Internet-shopping and pinning was a great way to pass the downtime while I was in Dallas at my mom's for a couple of weeks, and it also helped me to focus, both in a broad general sense, in terms of what appeals to me now, and eventually in a more focused way in terms of what I want to do with the house in Moss Creek and where to look when I actually start shopping. I'm not the worlds busiest pinner. And the way I look at the world, and the things in it, is very context driven, but I still can't say that my style fits in any particular category.

July is my play-time month. I seem to be traveling half the month and running around the other half with little time to work on projects. But I do have fantasy time and this play time is helping me refine ideas and organize what I need to do next. I don't quite know what the results will be the process is a lot of fun.

Photo Credits:
1. Diamond Match box from menards.com.

2. Holland and Co. Dandy Console from Lee Jofa.

3. Crystal Ball Pendant Light from Circa Antiques.

4. Table by Jeff Johnson.

You knew I'd have to throw something modern in the mix, didn't you? I'm just ornery that way sometimes. Too much homogeneity dampens the spirit.

July 17, 2013
Hello 54

Today is my birthday and this is what 54 looks like.

Even though there are those who fear we have sacrificed interpersonal relationships for an impersonal wireless connectivity, I have to admit that the happy little gurgles and chirps of my phone as friends and acquaintances near and far send birthday wishes brings a smile to my face and makes my feet skip with joy. Thank you all.

I am wearing my favorite tunic top, purchased this summer even though it is too bright and not really my colors. It is, however, happy and summery and wearing it makes me smile. It also goes with my old red espadrilles, which are also not the right shade of red, and my red patent Coach tote which must be at least 8 years old by now. It too is the wrong shade of red and it doesn't really go with anything else unless I wear black, which isn't my best color either.

The red bag does "pop" against some of the dusty lavenders in my wardrobe, and although I take consolation in that fact, I find that I am increasingly interested avoiding sharp contrast. Well, perhaps with the exception of today's outfit.

I recently stumbled across this newer version of the Coach tote however and am now considering replacing the red bag with this new one. The color looks good on my monitor, but it may be something completely different in person. Hoping to see the actual bag, I called a local store that sells Coach, and after a difficult conversation concerning the model and the color (Madison in aubergine), I was told "no purple purse".

At first I quibbled, telling myself I don't really need a new purse and that the red isn't really that bad. But I managed to convince myself only until I took the photo shown above. As so often happens with me, I can see in a photograph what I cannot see in real life, namely the thing stripped of my personal associations and baggage. It really is the wrong shade of red. I might be buying a new purple handbag after all.

I hope the rest of your day is as lovely as mine!

purple Coach handbag at coach.com.

July 5, 2012
A Little Shopping

This hasn't been the best week, and blog motivation has been seriously lacking. I think about things to post, but they all seem so frivolous at this point, and I haven't quite regained my focus, if there ever was any focus, that is. I am sure it has mostly just been in my head. G has been particularly scattered. I have been experiencing one of my periodic flare-ups of back pain and sciatica, a normal part of life for me since my 20's, and I am sure it is mostly due to a combination of stress, unpacking, heavy lifting, and not enough sleep or exercise. Already I am on the mend, but at the end of the day, when I am tired and stiff, my patience has not been up to snuff, and I tend to beat myself up about it. Hence no blogging.

But I am going to try.

I've been doing a little bit of clothes shopping. Even though I can sew, and fully intend to sew, the sewing room is nowhere near being functional and the simple truth is that I need some clothes. Several of the things that I packed in my December suitcases are too big and I haven't gotten my own things unpacked because my focus has been on keeping G's life as smooth as possible, and having the rest of the house settled and operating cleanly before I turn my attentions to myself. As I have noticed that a few things are too big, I have also begun to dread the unpacking and requisite new round of trying-on and sorting that this is going to entail. But I've needed a few things to wear, mostly basic tops that fit, and more transitional pieces as the climate in Knoxville hovers far longer in those transitional seasons than did the climate in my previous abode.

Truthfully, I was initially appalled at the shopping choices available. But I have since found a few things that I like including the standard chains: J Crew, Banana Republic, a department store that carries good jeans and sportswear brands like Ralph Lauren and Eileen Fisher. I've picked up a few things, but I can't say that any of these lines will become the basic bones of my wardrobe. That sewing machine was looking more and more tempting.

Last week however I went to a Lafayette 148 trunk show and ordered several pieces. There is a local store that carries and extensive selection, and has 3 trunk shows a year, where the entire line is available for order. Gratefully, I found that the line fits me pretty well, both in size and cut, as well as in terms of having pieces that fit my own personal view of "my style". Several pieces were ordered, including this pink dress, which I frankly think looked much better on me than on the model in this photo. I had been looking for this dress since Duchesse sent me a link to it, but had been too unsure of sizing and fit to order it online, which proved fortuitous. I had been looking at the black version, which may be more versatile, but when I saw this pink on me, there was no other choice possible.

There were several things I ordered which are not yet available on the web, things that will be arriving a bit later in the sping, including more of those cool mid-greens that seem to be so fashionable this year, and which are also so perfect for me. But there was enough to wear now and into the spring, enough to tide me over, and enough to integrate into my own things once I start sewing, and altering things I own to fit.

After all, at this point in my life I still maintain that I am not interested in making everything I wear, although I would like to make a fair amount. Pants and skirts will be high on that list as I have finally figured out the basic fit issues and why even the best RTW pants and pencil skirts don't fit and what to do about making pants and skirts that do fit. With both, it is easier to make it right from the start than to alter after the fact (though I am likely to end up dong some of that as well).

White Blouse courtesy of Lafayette 148 New York

Pink Shirt courtesy of Ralph Lauren

Pink Dress courtesy of Neiman Marcus

Gray tee courtesy of Lafayette 148 New York

February 16, 2012
Cabinets and Flooring and Tiles, Oh My!

Two weeks ago today, I was in Knoxville. It was a quick trip. I left my house at 6 AM Wednesday morning and was back home 37 hours later.

I arrived at my meeting place early and thought I'd get an outfit photo, but no one was around in the parking lot so I perched the camera on the top of the car. Then my phone rang. So much for distance. Just as my phone call ended, my real estate agent pulled up so I sureptitiously scooped my camera into my purse.

We spent the afternoon picking flooring and cabinetry and countertops. Actually we spent the afternoon writing down all the options and talking to the builder, it didn't take me long to pick from the available options at all and I was determined to stick as closely to the standard options as possible. I didn't quite manage that, but I came acceptably close.

I picked a pretty granite called Sapphire Blue for the kitchen countertops, and I opted to use the same granite in the master bathroom. That was an upgrade. I manged to find a cultured marble I liked for the guest baths, but not the master, so I went with the granite.

It quickly became apparent that we were going to have to go to tile showroom to pick the tiles as they only had a couple of options at the model and none of them were acceptable. I had hoped we would be able to do it all Wednesday, but it was not to be as the person we needed to meet at the tile showroom couldn't meet with us until Thursday morning.

I had really wanted to go to my favorite museum on Thursday morning and see an exhibit that was about to close but that was no longer possible. Luckily by the time we got back to the office and I retrieved my car, it was only a little after 4 PM. I figured I had just barely enough time to drive to downtown Knoxville and get into the museum before they closed at 5. I got lost, but I still made it.

I didn't have much time but I managed to see the exhibit I was looking for as well as take a quick turn around, not enough time to slowly absorb and commune with the works, but enough time to savor minute moments. This piece, made of mylar, foam core board, intaglio etching, and graphite by Crystal Wagner, a part of the permanent collection, really captivated me as it seemed to hint at the spirit of the imagination and the boundaries between the "real" and fantasy, reminding me of the magic that can be found when we allow ourselves to dream and transcend the everyday, that it is possible to be both in the world and apart from it.

And then, it was done. The museum was closing. I was on my own again alone in the parking lot. No one would be home yet at my step-daughter's house so I had some time. I thought I would try the camera on the roof of the car trick again. I was not particularly successful. The sun was so bright I couldn't tell when the camera was about to go off. I was so wired I couldn't stand still. Actually I kind of like this photo, it captures the feeling of the entire trip, a little dizzy but fun.

Thursday morning we went to the tile showroom. Once again I knew right away exactly what I wanted. Once again it took longer to write everything down and work out the details than it did to make the actual choices. And a good thing that because I just barely had time to grab a bite of lunch and head back to the airport.

I took photos to show G some of the selections I had made. So far, these photos are my only link to my new home. The first picture shows the cabinets that will be in both the kitchen and the master bathroom. Above the cabinet is the tile that will be used for the kitchen backsplash and the tub surround in the master bath. I thought I had taken a photo of the tile next to the granite as well, but apparently not. Below the cabinet is the master bath flooring. The kitchen floors will be wood.

This second photo shows the tile I chose for the fireplace surround in the living room. This isolated image is the only concrete thing in that living room as it is the one space that remains completely shrouded in my imagination, a space undefined until I can at least see some floor plans and get my mental bearings.

August 10, 2011
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.

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.

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.

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.

May 26, 2011
This and That Around the House

Well, here I am back at the blog but I haven't really worked out a time yet for being back an therefore it seems that my mind, lacking the structure of the old, "if it is X AM it must be blog-time" routine, wants to dart hither and yon. The hardest thing so far me about adjusting to having help is perhaps just that, adjusting, and my schedule seems to require constant adjustment. I am not by nature amoeba-like in my ability to adjust to changes in circumstances, so at times it is a bit trying.

This week we are watching Ken Burns' series, The Civil War, on PBS. My initial reaction was "seen that", many times over actually, but G wanted to watch it and I was drawn in as well. Each night I am saddened, angered, and brought to tears at least once as I get wrapped up the the turmoils of men, history, stupidity, tragedy and the occasional kindnesses of strangers.

But this steady diet of evening television time has been good for my knitting and I finished the first piece of my next sweater last night. I'm just going to post this teaser for now and say that I am using a wool, linen, and baby alpaca blend which I hope will prove excellent as a transitional piece for layering. I am determined to finish it by the end of next week.

While I am on the subject of transitional garments, I also went shopping this week. Actually I went shopping twice, once looking for some new things I saw in the JCrew and Talbots catalogs, but none of the items I sought were available in the local stores, or nearly local as J Crew is over an hour away. If anything my trip to the J Crew store actually discouraged me from attempting to order anything from the current catalog as I was so strongly disappointed in the merchandise available in the store and frustrated by the experience in general that I had about decided to just live with what I have currently in the closet.

But then a friend was showing off a fabulous new coat she got at Kohls, a lovely soft sage-green, transitional piece, and I promptly ran over to Kohls and bought my own. The sage made me look rather bilious around the edges and the black, despite the fact that it is pretty shiny, was a much better choice. I like the weight, I like the fact that it dips down at the side seams, and I like the fact that at less than $50 it is not a major commitment. If it gets me through a season or two I will be happy, especially since my previous black trench, a lightweight little number by Drizzle is looking pathetically sad and dated and is ready for retirement.

The truth is that I hadn't been in Kohls' in at least 4 years, and although I had heard good things about Vera Wang's Simply Vera line for Kohls, I have never been particularly attracted to Vera Wang's various explorations beyond the realm of wedding gowns. I may have to reconsider. I picked up a couple of pieces which I felt offered far better style, construction, and value for the money than the merchandise available at the Danbury J. Crew. They are not pieces for the ages perhaps, but I have come to accept with age, that little that is cut from cloth truly is ageless. I can accept that.

April 6, 2011