The textiles are languishing . . . . .

I must admit, I've not done anything with my textiles lately. I've been having too much fun making jewelry. Here is a mosaic of some of the things I've made. For your viewing pleasure.
.
Click on the photo titles below to see the enlarged photo.

1. Baby Pink Pearl Bracelet, 2. Baby Pink Bracelet - close-up, 3. Baby Pink Bracelet - clasp, 4. Baby Pink Bracelet on lace, 5. Baby Pink Bracelet - toggle, 6. Gorgeous Green Bracelet, 7. Gorgeous Green Bracelet, 8. Gorgeous Green Bracelet, 9. Tender Pink Pearl Bracelet, 10. Tender Pink Pearl Bracelet, 11. Dark Blue Pearl Bracelet, 12. Aqua bracelet, 13. Aqua bracelet - close-up, 14. Midnight Blue Bracelet - close-up, 15. Midnight Blue Bracelet - clasp, 16. Midnight Blue Bracelet

True to form, we didn't get the tree - yet

Yesterday, when we were supposed to get our Christmas tree, Doug cleared his afternoon calendar in honor of the occasion - a rare event, sad to say - he is a workaholic. But wasn't that incredibly nice of him? This year, thought I, we won't screw up and end up with no tree until the last minute. This year we'll do it right. Have the tree up and decorated in time for Adeline's arrival home from college. I had a late-morning appointment, two towns over, but that certainly didn't get in the way as I was out of there by 12:30. Before heading home, I figured I had time to make a "quick stop" at Sugarbeads, the bead and jewelry supply store, two towns over in the opposite direction, and Doug was fine with that. It helps that he works from home, so he was getting plenty done while he waited for me. Three hours later (I do love pawing through pearls, and rhinestones, and all sorts of sterling silver goodies), I finally headed home. But I did make just one more "quick stop" to pick up my new spectacles. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who decided to visit the optometrist, but waiting was better than leaving, since I was already there. By the time sun was setting, and did I mention by now it was also raining, I was finally truly on my way home. Way too late, and dark, and wet to get a tree. I'm feeling a little guilty. I'm trying not to - there have been many years of me doing the waiting while hubby takes care of "just one more thing" at work. And guess how long his "just five minutes" lasts? LOL. He, being the sweetie he is, was totally understanding and pointed out that the bead store for me, is like the hardware store for him. This served the dual purpose of making me feel better and getting him off the hook for all the time and money he spends (wastes?) at the True Value in Bethel.

We are now scheduled to get our tree on Saturday. Along with two zillion other people, no doubt. The upside is that I am letting go of the notion that we have to visit that particular farm that's two towns over and you cut your own tree. I'd still like fresh cut - it's not that hard - but I'm willing to search close to home. And I'll try not to be too picky. I always wanted Adeline to have happy memories of going to cut the tree - but she HATES IT, doesn't even come along, because of the years when I endlessly rejected tree after tree, in search of the "perfect" (a.k.a. non-existent) one. And I'm not just talking about having to see all the trees at a particular lot. We also had to drive to five or so places one memorable year, while it got darker and darker and colder and colder. There were plenty of fun years, but guess which year goes down in family history? When that story gets trotted out, I re-tell the story of the year that Doug was out of town on business and a very young Adeline and I went and cut down our tree all by ourselves. It was fun and we were very proud.
.
We're still ahead of the game. There have been years when we didn't put the tree up until Christmas Eve, and not because we were observing a charming tradition, a la Dana's description of the Olden Days (see comments on most recent post). And Doug loves the lights so much that he hates to take the tree down. I'm one of those "it's a new year" types, and I want it gone by the time we've finished the twelve days of Christmas, if not sooner. But he's the muscles who actually does the work, so he gets his way. One year, the tree was still up for Valentine's Day. He took it down just in time to save me the embarrassment of having it up for Saint Patrick's Day. No kidding.

Photos:
Adeline at the Christmas Tree, 2003
Morna meets with Santa, circa 1952.

Time to get the tree ..........

We are hoping to get our tree and put it up tomorrow. We are so bad at doing these things in a timely fashion. Please let this year be different! Meanwhile, here are two of Doug's cut card stock trees. Each one is about three inches tall. If you could see how big Doug is - 6'4" and very large hands - you would wonder at how he manages to make such tiny works of art.
.

Did I just photograph a spirit?

.
I've been up all night, and when dawn broke, there was a very lovely set of sunrise colors streaking across the sky. So, I zipped out to the backyard and took a bunch of photos. I allowed a second or two lapse between each shot. Nothing looked different in the scene, from one shot to the next, so far as I could see. The only difference was that I moved a bit to the right as I was shooting. But look what's in the pictures - it's as if a spirit went flying by while I was shooting.
.




Those are the shots, exactly as they came from the camera. What do you think?????????
.

i carry your heart with me

.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
 by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
 (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

— e.e. cummings