At least it wasn't snow and other adventures

 Here's the rainfall yesterday

The middle line is my little town. We were spared the high winds, and power stayed in, local roads flooding in turn as the water moved downstream, continually changing police  advisories.

And I did a bit of spinning. I'm a bit out of shape -- arms got tired! This wool is one lot, and I did some lovely silk mix , too.

Sags are continuing to sign in, and here's a big one

A true home for Sags!

Yesterday I also had a blood pressure scare, sky high readings and my doctor had me add a bit to one of my meds, rest, come in next week to see what's up. So that's what I'm doing. 

I don't have any scary symptoms, other than  anxiety after seeing the readings -- two different cuffs, after resting  intervals, all the precautions -- so today I'm resting. Reading, avoiding the news, maybe a bit of knitting. This is starting to sound like a usual day. Hm.  Meditation this morning. Catch up on the poem a day.

Happy day, everyone, let us return to our sheep! And spin their fleece.

Photo AC

Nothing but rain, so let's think silk

We're in the middle of an endless drenching windy storm, so I was happy to have interesting material in the inbox today. 

Like a good student, I give my source so you can follow up if you want to. It's about textiles, particularly silk, that almost mystical thread, strong, fine, beautiful, warm, cool, takes dyes, and is almost indestructible.

Here's something that intrigues historians, weavers, and miniature makers, a threefer

Chinese knowledge was so far ahead of Western thought, it makes me stop dead every time I come across something like this.

And this early fabric store

I can see some blogistas peering eagerly at these stacks to pick out their quilting fat quarters!

And this one really has my heart

In giant stone form, this is the singles thread I spin with my spindle. I feel commemorated! 

So that's my joy for today. I think I'll do a bit of spinning to celebrate. The wet weather is certainly good for spinning natural fibers. In Northern England, the damp climate was very helpful to the spinning of cotton, thread didn't snap. 

Alas cotton has a  terrible history, from the slavery of growing it on the plantations of the American South and the Dutch colonies, to the dark satanic mills of Northern England, quoting Blake,  where little children worked long days and their elders died young from exhaustion and  the brown lung disease resulting from inhaling cotton fibers. 

We can't celebrate fibers without acknowledging the abuses. But we can protect today's workers, and ourselves if we engage in textile work. And we can refuse fast fashion which now traps textile workers in Asia in long days of dangerous, badly paid work. We can push for better regulation and  worker protection. Closer to home,  when we make for ourselves, buy our raw materials from indie producers,  and make an art of visible mending, we're making a political statement.  

This simple wonderment about silk then cotton, quickly became a soapbox! But this thinking, thanks to my enlightened working class parents, really does underpin my life. 

Art and power, despite the denials  of the society I grew up in and escaped, absolutely are for the likes of me! And the history teacher who told me a foundry worker's daughter, me, had no business taking the national exams, because they were for future leaders, has long been proved mistaken. 

Onward, and happy day,  everyone, breathe, I'll try to, while I fight the good fight with my trusty spindle! Yes, I do laugh at myself, too, getting all worked up when nobody's disagreeing with me.

Quiche, the Bishop and a Sock

I mentioned I'd given an artwork to the neighbor who visited and who's very happy with it. I managed to find a picture. It's the  left here, entitled The Cellist, stitched on linen, among various other stitchings.

This is a setup I did when I was demoing various fiber arts at the library, this one on goldwork. Bottom right is a slightly crazed photo of me they used to use for promos.

And, speaking of neighbors, I free cycled this giant ceramic planter for Gary, to someone strong enough to lift it.

Yesterday was about cooking a rapid quiche, using three cheeses, sharp cheddar, mozzarella, and feta crumbles. No added salt, plenty in the cheeses. All the rest of the spinach, three eggs.  One slice with a piece of toasted multigrain, pretty good supper. Near Christmas, so it's Cheeses of Nazareth.

 

After which, the Annual Watching of "The Bishop's Wife", the only Christmas movie I like. Especially the skating scene!

Look at that cast. Speaking of which, I cast on a sock, and let's hope this yarn works better for socks than it did for gloves. So far so good.

And here's today's poem, about which I have mixed feelings.

Not a great idea to just endure a season instead of plunging in and seeing what's good about it, but I may be in a minority there, a lot of people being ready to get past the solstice and count the lengthening days.

Happy day, everyone! Whatever length the daylight. Here's a tribute to all Sags everywhere, including Gary and his daughter, much more to my taste.

Cheers!

Lovely day to start my year

 Yesterday was full of wishes and greetings and visits, thank you for your part,  with more to come next week. Handsome son brought lunch he'd made, chicken breast, garlic, mozzarella melted with big crisp rolls. Dessert was a miniature Italian fruited bread, a gift from my cleaning family. 

Lovely afternoon, and he brought down the box of little Christmas ornaments and set them up around the place.

 

He also accepted my printer and scanner to replace his non working ones, which he will take to be recycled. I never use them nowadays. And we made Christmas day plans, another easy dinner.

Then later, in the evening, Gary and the well neighbor came over with cake and cream and ice cream, to wish me. We had a lovely evening chatting and eating cake, and she accepted an artwork she loves, a stitched piece, for her house. 

I talked about why this was fine for me, too, overcame her hesitancy, and she went away happy. It's a good artwork that's been exhibited, admired, and came home with me. Now it's where it's loved, yay!

Gary was a bit dismayed about my plans to move the big plants to the library, but was persuaded it's okay. He hates change unless he's doing it!

All in all, one of the best birthdays. Just what I like, home, chatting with one or two people, good food. I'm very lucky.

Interesting that I managed free cycling even yesterday!

Happy day, everyone, and go find this video on YouTube, my favorite school nativity play ever

Talk about fighting the good fight!

 

Photo AC

Yay me! A much better Christmas across the street

 So I seem to have made it halfway through my ninth decade, and thank you everyone who messaged and emailed and sent electronic and paper cards and wishes already!

At least we think this is the right day. Back where I was born, homebirths with records only in the official log of the midwife, carried away with her,  the father had to go to the town hall to register a new baby. 

My mother wasn't well after the birth, and, one thing and another, it was after Christmas, big family, busy time, that he finally got there. Knowing him, he'd forgotten the exact date, so much going on, and I suspect estimated the likely date! Anyway this is my official bday, fight me! 

He also got the wrong name, having completely forgotten Mom's choice by the time he got to the church for the baptism. This was always performed asap after birth, because you never know. She wasn't up to the walk, babies always carried to church, so Dad did the honors. 

When the priest asked the new baby's name, they had a quick male conference and ended up naming me for the priest's mother. Which turned out to be the same as my mom's name. Which sent her as ballistic as she felt up to being, when we got home,  since she hated the Old Tom, Young Tom tradition of her brother's family and didn't want an Old Liz and a Young Liz in her own!  Terrific guy in many ways, physically one of the most courageous of men, my dad, but not clerically  gifted.

Yesterday Gary came over to wish me a happy bday and  check my tire pressures! He had the compressor out anyway for the neighbor across the street, so he did his and mine, too. I returned the bday wishes, since his was last week, you might have guessed he's a hellbent Sag!

This is a great Christmas for the neighbor across the street, this time last year newly diagnosed with cancer and facing chemo, this year tests clear, feeling fine! Hence the tree, no tree last year.

And Gary helping unload.

Yesterday was the smallest misfits box ever, missing eggs, 

Everything yellow or orange or pinkish.  Every now and then I have enough food in the house to cut way back on ordering. 

And since I can officially start the Christmas season, here goes

They'd have arrived on time, too, no wandering hopelessly across the desert for twelve days, not asking the way, claiming a star was leading them.

Happy day, everyone, and I hope you get as long and happy a life as I'm lucky enough to have

Final (!) arrangements, and good plans

 So yesterday's meeting went well and took ages, many parts, and we were in a lounge sort of room, probably a viewing room, nice furniture, low annoying music in the background. 

The young woman working with me was very considerate, turned off the music for me, when I explained it was cutting out her voice, asked me how to address me, yay, and ran to get a mask when she saw mine.

There were various forms to fill out  then print up, the office part done elsewhere in the building, I suppose they're tactfully trying not to look too businesslike. 

I was very firm about wanting the cheapest everything. They're respectful anyway, as I know from the way they took care of Handsome Partner. I'm sending a check in the full amount today, could have done it yesterday but I'd neglected to make sure of my bank balance, and they don't have guest WiFi, so I couldn't check on the spot.

Its coming out at $3,800+, only a bit more expensive than Handsome Partner twelve years ago.

She's very good at her job, discussing her own experience in the business and her plans eventually to own a home conducting green funerals. She's picked out a willow casket for herself, showed me the picture! But I'm still going for a cardboard box and cremation, and a box of ashes home to Handsome Son.

So that's done, and I feel so much better getting everything taken care of this week, doctor visit, house cleaned, cremation organized, puzzle back to library, online chair yoga registered for.  The Shakuhachi effect at full throttle.

I had more to write about today, but I'm a bit tired after the emotional exertion yesterday. Tomorrow Handsome Son comes to cook me a favorite lunch as a birthday present, on the right day, first time he's been free in years on the right day. 

Happy day, everyone, whatever it brings, it's all okay.

Emerald Fennell, Amy Levy, and freecycling

Yesterday's free cycling went to great homes, the glass bowl made a regular freecycler happy, and the handmade paper went to someone who creates mixed media cards, good hands. She completely understands what she's got and loves it. 

To me that's so much better than stuffed in a drawer. Someone local cautioned me about giving away too much, in case I regretted it. She referred to someone she knows in a retirement community who regrets having downsized. But I think that's different kind of person from one who emigrated from Europe with two suitcases and a trunk  of books. And who three years later crossed the US to another new home driving all their possessions in a small car.

I wonder, too, if being a maker is part of it. If I need something, chances are I can make it! There are so many ways to enjoy things without owning them. 

Today's poem, short enough to show, is by Amy Levy, who led a short, brilliantly talented, and depressed life. The first woman admitted to Newnham College, Cambridge, after men students had literally rioted against admitting women, so grownup of them, she wrote literary essays, novels and poetry, and ended her life sadly young, in her twenties.

This one may be directed at the woman she loved

In other thoughts I've been intrigued by the name Emerald Fennell. She produced Saltburn, about which I know little beyond the fuss over it, see the partial review

I thought at first it was an expose of the seaside town I knew growing up, but it turns out it isn't. What I'm interested in, though, is her name, made up of a jewel and, pretty much, a vegetable.

It could be a new age band, or a drag name, or a romance novelist. How about Ruby Rutabaga? Pearl Asparagus? Diamond Beet?  More ideas welcome!

This afternoon is the funeral home meeting, and Handsome Son has a long working day and can't come with me, but I'll keep him updated.

Happy day, everyone, pick a great name for your future adventures!

Decisions, decisions..

Continuing winnowing: art materials, here handmade paper I created from plant materials, quite a bit from local leaves, day lilies, iris, grasses, red onions in the kitchen, all kinds of flowers and foliage. 

Some of it's stamped, some could be framed as is, but it's all a lot of fun for collage, with or without kids. There's a few dyed coffee filters, too and other interesting stuff.

I'm

It's very light in weight and currently on Freecycle, pickup today. If you read the earlier text, I wrote before a local pickup came up.

I'm Freecycling this glass bowl,too, pickup today

The ruler resting on it for size indication. People tend to register pictures better than words. They'd rather squint at the ruler than read the descriptive text, search me why.

And here's another decision. It was at this point that I realized I was bored and impatient with this endlessly annoying puzzle. 

I checked and found they've repealed the law that says you have to finish everything you start. So it's boxed and back in the library collection now. 

I might borrow another, or I might take a puzzle holiday. I can't do my usual walk under the trees just now because 

We got two inches of rain, meaning slippery mud. I can walk on sidewalks, not quite as interesting but meanwhile I did free weights, various weird stretches and moves on the stairs.

So, when my doctor at this afternoon's routine visit asks if I'm active, I can say certainly! That's the main advice I get these days, that and watch salt, which I do anyway.

There's worse things than a doctor with little to suggest you should do.

Happy day, everyone, someone's coming this afternoon to get handmade paper to play with.

Plant surgery, reading discovery and gloves

 I just found this, now I've put it on my Kindle, and realized the reason I didn't know about it is that it was originally published under her other pen name, Gordon Daviot. It's been reissued under the better known name, but the style is quite different.

So we'll see. No Alan Grant here. Large family, tyrannical religious father, downtrodden mother..

And the gloves are done, ready to go.

While we're talking knitting, take a look at this candy, created by Yolande of the blog Fils et Aiguilles, usually a great embroiderer, but it turns out she knits, too.

If you go to her blog, don't be put off that it starts in French, because she always adds the English translation. Also a third language which I'm not sure, Danish or Dutch. It's a beautiful blog to scroll through in awe. Her  title translates to Needle and Thread.

And yesterday I finally got tired of wrangling this awkward plant, name escapes me, originally brought to me years ago,  as a dumpster rescue by Gary, which I cut into three, giving him one which is doing fine. 

This one was growing long and tall and bending all over, so I cut it back, you see the white stump. Another plant will spring from there. And I just pushed the cut off top, having discarded a long stem, straight back into the pot. Last time I did this, they all flourished, so I hope it happens again. It's better than having it collapse out of the pot, anyway.

On the subject of winnowing, Handsome Son asked what about my plants after I'm gone.  Good thinking. And I realized I don't have to wait that long. They're a lot of work and I don't have energy to burn. 

So I've arranged with the library to pass on the big ones, including the ficus, to them. I'll see them when I want, but they'll care for them. The library  building is all windows, great for plants, and they're keen to build up a collection to make the environment greener. They've taken good care of the begonia I donated. 

 I need to wait for milder weather to do this, so it's a spring plan. No more wrangling the ficus outside again! I've given her fifty years of care, so it's someone else's turn.

Happy day, everyone, and is there something you can hand over and stop wrestling with? Kitties not included.