Peaches and Perseids

Such melancholy days these are.

Two of our closest friends married off their sons within 24 hours of each other. I made 2 table runners as wedding gifts, and machine quilted  them as I hope they will be used well and tossed in the washing machine. (I'll probably never use variegated thread again in my life, though, but that is another post.) The weddings took place this past weekend and I officially became "the old lady who cries at weddings".  I've seen those boys go from diapers to tuxedos and shared the adolescent angst (and behavior) with their parents, so it's easy to see how I get weepy when I see them walk them down the aisle or have that "mother and son" dance.  The harder moment for me is when the father of the bride gives his daughter to her future husband.  I flash back to the moment my dear Dad let go of my hand and placed it into Joe's, and my heart just aches.  Life is precious and fleeting.

This from a blog post a few years ago:

I didn't know it at the time, but the last time my parents came to Gloucester for a visit was during the Perseid meteor shower of about 1998.  We had friends who were members of a local beach club so we were able to troop down to the beach with a hibachi, wine, dessert and sand chairs to make a perfect evening in a perfect setting even more....perfect.  We had a marvelous supper, topped off by Mom's peach pie made from peaches picked in our own backyard.  Dad was the official peach peeler (he's a hound dog for peach pie) and Mom could whip up a pie so effortlessly it was all done in a blink.  I can still remember the setting in vivid detail, but I can't conjure up the taste of Mom's peach pie.  It's been too long and while my own peach pies are pretty good (from good DNA) they aren't hers.  They aren't from peaches in our own backyard, they weren't peeled with love by my Dad, and ..... well, you get the idea. We watched the sun set and the stars come out, the moon rose perfectly between the twin lighthouses of Thatcher Island, and the meteor shower began.  It was an experience we all talked about for years to come. 

We had to prop up those peach trees with lumber because the branches were so heavily laden with fruit they would otherwise break. The trees have since died off, and while we planted two others only one took root.  A few days ago Joe walked in to the house with three little peaches from our 'new' tree.  First fruits. Upon realizing it wouldn't be enough to make a pie or a cobbler or a crisp, I flashed to my memory of Mom and Dad in the kitchen, Dad peeling peaches and Mom working magic with pastry. Perseids and peaches will forever be twined together in my heart. 

Who knew such a powerful and priceless memory was being made that night? I have always "felt" things so deeply - my mother even said I was her most moody child. Sometimes I'm barely convinced I have any skin at all. Like so many others who have struggled with depression I was shocked and anguished by the death of Robin Williams. He was such a brilliant and talented man, but even all his resources were not enough. Mindful that building resilience is important, I've been trying to live more vigilantly and find things to rejoice in, to celebrate and savor. I'm trying to block off the voice in my head that constantly admonishes, "You should be doing -----" when I just want to sit and sew or embroider or read for an hour. (I have found it to be wonderfully enriching to put a stopper in that damn voice once in awhile.) Added bonus - I had the presence of mind to save one of those peaches to eat when I sit on the back porch and look for Perseids tonight.  Life is good. 

The Advent of Advent

Even thought I still have to cope with idiots who do not know the meaning of Advent - I like Advent.  It begins on Sunday and is a familiar ritual involving  lit candles and a winter cleaning of the soul. I find myself taking inventory of the past year, what went down (vs. what did not -  like my weight) and thinking about what I want to do with the time I have left. Face it, at my age I know I have less time ahead of me than I do behind me and I'm good with that.  I'm tired, for Pete's sake, but I still want to make sure I use that time wisely and well.

I'm also busy making Christmas gifts because 1) I like to, and 2) all funds are delegated to paying bills and utilities.  I have a place  in the family room all cleared out for a Christmas tree - we can pick up a small one for very little and I have a need to get back to trimming a real tree that smells good, sheds needles - the works.  I like the long observance of Advent and slower Christmas.   I've never been one for the  Black Friday or Cyber Monday sales frenzy even when I did have money to shop.  I just don't particularly like shopping.  It seems a waste of time to me and is often very frustrating.  I like simple things, good lines, fine fabric and appreciate a nice seam finish. Try finding that these days.

Maybe that is why I can spend hours embroidering wool felt and watching Christmas movies.  Every ornament is unique, every movie gets better with another viewing.  Right now I'm watching ELF on an endless loop.  There are more good one-liners in that movie than in almost any other Christmas movie.  This past Sunday was the Downtown Santa Parade and while Santa looked pretty authentic sitting on top of the fire department's ladder truck, I knew it wasn't the REAL Santa and it was all I could do to not yell out, "YOU SIT ON A THRONE OF LIES!"

Slow down and enjoy the season. Life outside of the usual frantic holiday circus is pretty sweet and makes for better memories.

 

Christmas in the Garment District

We were given the most wonderful Christmas gift from a dear friend - 3 days in Manhattan (last week) to do the Christmas "thing" in the Big Apple.  I have not been to New York in ages and I must say things were different, but mostly in a good way.  It was much cleaner, much more polite (I know!) and had a much heavier police presence.  We had unseasonably warm weather, the kind that continues today and reaaaally harshes my Christmas buzz.  I like snow and at this time of year I want a little frosty.  We won't be able to use the fireplace on Christmas because it will be too warm. How messed up is that?

As for the trip we did the usual touristy things (and a few OMG things) and had a ball.  Joe had never been to the Empire State Building so we timed a late-afternoon visit to avoid the lines. SCORE.  We went right up and had a good look at the most amazing city on earth.  The lobby of the ESB was just restored to it's breathtaking art deco magnificence; it  was like being in a movie.  Rockefeller Center was decked to the 9's and full of skaters, shoppers and tourists. All good things led to lunches and we went full throttle on a few places, including the Stage Deli.  There is nothing like a great NY deli. Bonus - you aren't hungry for a full week afterward. Oy.

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The highlight of my trip was breaking my Garment District cherry.  I've wanted to go forever and decided this was the trip. (Note to self - leave the guys at a deli & Lionel Train store while I do my thing.)  I was only able to get to 2 places, B&J Fabrics and Mood Fabrics, but both were fantastic.  I found the most beautiful selection of Liberty of London tana lawns and I treated myself to two of them to be used in a future project that must be found UTTERLY worthy.  The big score came when my good buddy (whose name I can't remember) dove through piles of rolled bolts and helped me secure just the thing for my long-unfulfilled fantasy.  I've always wanted a dressing gown - a circa 1920's fabu thing that you see in movies. (Ashley Judd wore one in DeLovely and it was stunning.)   I have looked for one for years in every brick and mortar and online store I could find.  Even the fabric was impossible to obtain. The closest I came was a place that had a good embroidered faux silk Shantung done in a very passable... polyester. (I'm a champagne girl on a beer budget.)  I'd pretty much given up hope when I found a silk Shantung that was swweeeeet. It is light as air and has the most beautiful (tho impossible to accurately photograph) Nile green color, and since I needed a lot I  managed to negotiate a price I could live with. (I knew being married to a Sicilian would pay off someday. ) Likewise for the satin, which will be used to trim sleeves, pockets and a wide, lovely collar.  Oh sigh.  It really is Christmas! It will probably be next Christmas before I'm swishing around the house wearing it, but by then Joe will have found a proper chaise lounge for Madame to recline upon while she plays upon her iPad.  It could happen.

August Wool

The dog days of summer are here with a vengeance.  Living so close to the icy Atlantic used to mean an afternoon sea breeze that cooled things off to the point where you had to close a window at night.  Not any more.  I am a climate-change believer.  I used to have at least five or six summer weight cardigans I needed to wear in the evenings out here.  Now I'm slicing the sleeves off old t-shirts to find something cool enough to wear around the house.

In July and August we crank up our trusty R2D2 air conditioner in the family room and I haul down my embroidery floss basket, a tub of wool felt and start  cutting up birds, stars, ornaments and mug rug pads so I can embroider my little projects that I sell locally.  I've set up a corner of the room that now looks like a wooly tornado hit it - complete with splattered bits of color from the bits  of wool and knots of embroidery floss that get snipped off as I work.  I could clean it up every night after a session of sewing, but what is the point?  A sample of works in progress:

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There is always that bit of a re-learning curve that comes with taking up embroidery after a long break.  I fumble around trying to remember old stitches and sometimes invent new ones in the process. I get very frustrated that the work isn't spacing evenly until I hit my rhythm and I'm back in the groove.  Then I wonder why I ever stopped - hand sewing is the most relaxing thing (well, next to a cigarette and a martini but I had to stop  smoking years ago and you really should not #gdas).

BTW, I  highly recommend the "R2D2" style of AC for a single room use.  I've put up heavy (upholstery remnant) curtains in the 2 open doorways to the room so it stays remarkably comfortable.  Joe rigged up a little template so we can tuck the exhaust hose out one of our windows. The only other work is to make sure there is a bucket next to it because it needs to "pee" every 5 hours or so.  (We don't leave it on overnight.)  The water gets taken outside to the porch to water the flowers.  It's a win-win.

I wait until I have a bunch of them finished before I bag and tag them - it's a very gratifying part of the process.  My tag reads "MSQ" as a tribute to my mom who used to make and sell small quilts and table runners at our shop here in Gloucester.  Since her last name was Major, she tagged her products, "Major Stuff Quilts" - hence,  the MSQ on my label.  I like sewing in the evenings while we watch a movie, surf around the DIY channels, or just discuss (and solve) the world's problems.   Joe is always there to bounce ideas off of and give me solid tips on getting the most bang for my embroidery buck.  Best part  -  he really gets it about my sewing, quilting, etc. and that is a remarkably redeeming quality in a partner.

EDIT:  If you were wondering, #gdas is a Twitter  hashmark for a Friday evening TweetChat where spirited, earthy sewing enthusiasts pop a cold one and discuss projects, tips, good food, and whatever else strikes our fancy.  (The name Get Drunk And Sew tells you all you need to know.)

Loving French Knots

Long, long ago (1984) in a state far, far away (Nebraska) I spent the summer embroidering French knots on squares of plain muslin.  I liked the process, I liked hand sewing, and I liked doing it while I looked at the map of Massachusetts tacked up on my wall.  I spent the summer making knots and thinking about my new life to come,  waiting for Labor Day weekend to arrive and my big move to Boston.

The finished muslin squares were put away and forgotten about for a long time.  When Mom and Dad flew out for our wedding in 1988, Mom found the squares in my sewing room and chastised me for letting them gather dust.  I never thought about it again until 1989, when this arrived on my doorstep:

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You could have knocked me over with a feather.   This was the quilt responsible for me getting in to quilting myself - I didn't think I was capable of creating something that could wind up (with a LOT OF HELP) this substantial.  The label is one of Mom's typical gems - done in left handed calligraphy:  " Candlewicking: by Joan Ciolino, Gloucester Mass. Quilt: by her  Mother, Mary Ann Major, Lexington, Nebraska. 1989."   How absolutely wonderful is that?

We use the quilt mostly in the fall but when we put it on our bed we have to put it face down - dragging your arm across those bumps in the middle of the night is not a pleasant experience.  It still serves a useful purpose, and the other months it hangs beautifully on our bedroom quilt rack. The colors are dated,  the whole thing is tired from many uses and washings, but it's the only thing my Mom and I made together.   In short, it's exactly what a quilt should be.

Check out this new site:  We Love French Knots.  It promises to be an interesting and informative place to learn how to create beautiful heirlooms.  As the weather gets hotter here in Gloucester, I find myself needing portable hand sewing projects I can take to our family room where trusty R2D2 (the mobile AC) makes my life bearable.  Happy 4th of July - I met my husband 24 years ago today.  He REALLY makes my life bearable....

Out of the Frying Pan...

.......and in to the fire.  It has gone from hot to "heat wave HOT" in a matter of days.  We're looking at a five-day heat wave and that means working on something I can do downstairs in the company of R2D2 (our portable AC machine)  in the family room.  R2 does a pretty efficient job of cooling the room but eats electricity like a big ol' hog.  I'm OK with paying the higher electric bill if it enables me to breathe and sleep like a human being.

This heat wave prematurely jump starts my annual fall side-excursion into wool felt.  I like the change-up in fabrics and textures (and skills -  I have to remember how to embroider).  Bonus - you can watch TV or a movie while you do this  so what's not to love?  The only downside is that there is a hurricane named Earl lurking out there in the Atlantic.  This alone is not a problem, but every local TV station is working terribly hard to manufacture a frenzy about "this might" or "it could" and frankly I just do not need the drama.  Keep us reasonably informed and if something actually materializes you may  THEN push the frenzy button. The  weather reporters out here are epic at crying "wolf" about hurricanes . 9 1/2 times out of 10 these earth shattering predictions have  fizzled to nadda far offshore.  If and when one actually does materialize  there is a danger that  people are going to ignore the hysterical warnings just out of habit.  I need one of those "easy" buttons to edit the level of hype in news these days.  Since I do not have one, I will content myself  by making like Donna Reed and embroider my little ornaments.  It relaxes me to do these things and I could use that these days.......