November

Can you believe it's November already? It is true that time speeds up as I get older. And memory starts to evaporate. And stuff, the years of accumulation of stuff. I look around and I see so many things that I no longer need to own. Things that own me. 

I've started to clear out years worth of collected textiles, listing them for sale at one of my Etsy shops: WickedWaifVintage. I gently launder them by hand, and I iron them once they are clean and dry. As I handle each piece, my appreciation for the work that went into it is renewed. It's so easy to become attached all over again. I find myself pondering - do I really want to let this go? I work hard at making sure the answer is YES. It's time to let go. To make space, space to breathe. 

Memory Lane: Baby Lily has a snuggle with Doug. 

Autumn Traditions

There is a period of time each fall when the acorns fall hard and fast and I fear for my safety on the deck. I went out a few days ago and collected enough acorns to fill two large bowls as well as a good-sized basket. This particular wooden bowl was a gift from my aunt Phyllis, many years back. It's resting on a lovely runner, hand-woven by Mary Worley in Vermont. She used to sell her weavings each year at the American Craftsmen Show in Wilton, but she isn't doing that anymore. I feel very lucky to have quite a few of her linen kitchen towels, some runners, and a couple of wool blankets. I think it's very important to support those who make beautiful things. If you see something handmade and you like it, grab it while you can. It won't be coming your way again. 

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The annual First Congregational Church Fair was a week or so ago. A true town tradition, with enough apple pies for everyone to buy and a huge caldron of simmering "Everything Soup," hanging above a small fire and carefully tended by members of the congregation. It's possibly the best soup on the planet, or at least it's in the top ten. It seems like everyone in town, and beyond, manages to stop by at some point in the day. All ages are represented along with a fair number of well-behaved dogs and puppies. There was live music - performed by our neighbor's band, Yippee Coyote. Their rendition of Jack White's Never Far Away, literally brought tears to my eyes. I also enjoyed the woman in her 70s (I'm guessing) who stopped by during a different number and danced along to the music. It was a lovely sight and made me wish I could feel the freedom she must feel, to be who she is and do what she does. 

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There are always artisans who set up their booths - in fact, that was where I did my first craft show along with two friends: Judy Wylie, who hooks gorgeous rugs, and Eileen Honey, a painter who these days is doing a lot of art journaling. Also, there is a humongous rummage sale where I scored this beautiful vintage bird cage, for six dollars. My initial instinct was to buy it for resale, but I like it too much to let it go. The roses, by the way, are from my daughter's boyfriend, Bill. He brought two bouquets - one for Adeline and one for me. Smart man.

Lily Pulitzer Prize says Nite Nite.

Rainy Day

It's just a cold, rainy day. Not what one expects for the first day of June. The rock sculptures are thanks to Dougie; they greet you at the bottom of our driveway. 

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The roses Doug brought home last week are spent. I'll try the petals in a dye experiment, even though I am finally getting it through my head that it is more likely leaves that will give good results. The leaves were in the bouquet. I don't know what they are but I'll give them a whirl.

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I finally dislodged the rusty old iron cauldron from its hiding place. Surely I should have some eco-luck if I use this as a dye pot. 

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It's so cold and rainy, I may even use some of this tonight. Happy First Day of June!

I need the eggs

Annie Hall ... probably my all-time favorite movie. Here is the bittersweet ending.

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The beautiful, organic eggs I was able to buy today from a neighbor who keeps chickens. Lucky me. 

Just for fun ...

It started like this and was handed over to me by the person who made it. It was quite beautiful but she no longer loved it. My assignment was to alter it in some way and she gave me permission to do anything I wanted.

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I played with paint, and glitter, and charms of all sorts ... very messy and fun.

I actually wanted to make it all white and glittery, with palest washes of icy, arctic blue. I think we all know by now that I am apparently incapable of staying within a white palette ... color always breaks through.

                                                                                                                            PHOTO :: DOUG CRITES-MOORE

Now it has been handed over to yet another creative person and we'll see what she's done with it at the end of another week. 

Can't get it out of my mind

A while back, there was an interview with Khaled Hosseini (author of The Kite Runner) in the New York Times. He talked about his first short story:

“It was a dark little tale about a man who found a magic cup and learned that if he wept into the cup, his tears turned into pearls. But even though he had always been poor, he was a happy man and rarely shed a tear. So he found ways to make himself sad so that his tears could make him rich. As the pearls piled up, so did his greed grow. The story ended with the man sitting on a mountain of pearls, knife in hand, weeping helplessly into the cup with his beloved wife's slain body in his arms.”

Quite a story, isn't it?