A Contemplative Life

Ah, another Mandolin quilt is completed. The EPP portion that is, lol. Not that the rest of it is going to be complicated, other than adding to the fleece backing so it's large enough. No batting, as an English paper pieced quilt top is heavier than a machine pieced top, or mine are because I use wide seam allowances, adding to the heft. I'll stitch the top's perimeter onto the fleece, then do some hand-quilting, and BOOM, there's a completed cozy. However... I want to make some notes, just on the very obscure chance I ever start another EPP project. Seven await my attention, ahem, so even pondering another is ridiculous. But I learned A LOT in making this quilt, much of it upon studying the photo above. How chaotic it appears to me, sigh, because I used two different fabrics in constructing the joining blocks, not including the center hexagons. Yet the last Mandolin quilt I made looked, well, dull, what with white joining blocks edging hexagons from a sunflower print. ...

Brave Upon Being and other musings.... I might have to update my WIP page, adding a new playlist that has been evolving over the last few weeks after I inadvertently erased the playlist that had been under that title. That absent playlist still exists on my phone, the erased playlist on my computer. I'm old school that way, what can I say? It's a weird kind of Monday; damp and gray and actually a wee bit chilly. This is our third, no probably fourth straight cloudy day and finally the lack of sun has cast a cool pall on these final days of summer. Technically summer. But summer is an abstract term along the North Coast in Humboldt County because when it's between fifty-eight and sixty-four degrees most of the time, what does summer mean? Summer means LONG stretches of daylight, the possibility of hitting sixty-seven degrees, maybe sixty-nine, and of course mosquitoes until the dragonflies emerge. That's summer. Summer actually lasts until as late as mid-October if the ...

Left corner of the Mandolin quilt attached! No commas required. Oh my goodness, I'm removing HEAPS of commas! Heaps. But it is my way, when writing, to slap a comma here, and here, and here. Not that the and's drip everywhere, but commas, oh my goodness.... And ellipses too, LOL. Lots of those, some of which I have removed. Yet those commas, why do I do this to myself? I think, and I'll leave that comma, it's because as I write I insert internal pauses, both in the prose AND the dialogue. Is that necessary, I'm not sure, but I do it and.... And WHOOPS, there's another comma. Hmmm, gotta have a think on this. Anyway, revisions on Deadfern continue. The Deadfern Miracles , Miracles ala Deadfern. Why Deadfern? I don't know. When I plotted this novel, well, there wasn't a lot of plotting. I've pantsed stories before, but not like this one. This one is unique in many ways, not for all the commas certainly, but in how it meandered through my brain to my ...

  In working on the Lavender quilt, end blocks need to be constructed on the fly, so to speak. The one above, with its corresponding block, was actually fun to make because Past Me had cut in half triangles and half hexagons, so all Present Me needed to do was to choose appropriate fabrics, baste those shapes, then sew them together. The low volume decisions were easier than the vibrant prints for the triangles. Why did I save those scraps, I now consider, but I don't ponder it deeply, mostly because much of my life is currently about trust. Learning to trust even more thoroughly than I ever have previously, not due to poor health or other erroneous situations, but merely that trusting in God is what God wants from me, ahem. Like prepping a manuscript that might be queried. I say might because I'm still reading it, but in a manner not previously done, other than for agents. I set aside the first fifty pages double-spaced, read through it, and made a few changes to the original...

Lately we've had a lovely bunch of sunrises, in that the marine layer has been pushed off, not obscuring the bright start of the day. To be honest the bright start begins later every morning, lol. Where in mid-summer we fed the hens at six thirty, now we don't amble out until ten after seven. And they're not complaining about it. Why does this matter? Because it's different. It's pleasant, well, for most of us. My husband prefers clouds. I love him regardless. Autumn here along the North Coast is when visible sunrises return. Or as much as we see once the sun is above the eastern treeline. I don't begrudge those trees, I'm merely thrilled for a relatively vibrant beginning to the day. Especially at this mid-September time of year, for it's the time of year my brother Joe would have turned.... Fifty-four, dude! He died days before his twenty-fifth birthday, what a thing. Why I wrote that Suicide Prevention Awareness post a few days ago and this time last...

September carries significance for me, birthdays of those I deeply love alongside the loss of my brother Joe, who took his life twenty-nine years ago. These joys and sorrows are carefully balanced within my heart, many for whom I pray. Last year I wrote a post about Suicide Prevention Awareness Month . Again it's that time of year. I don't know why autumn was chosen to highlight it, but I certainly feel it, as my niece took her life in October of 2019. She was about the same age as my brother when he died, not sure what that means in the grand scheme, other than those in their mid-twenties, with so much ahead of them, slip away to a place which I pray is far more peaceful than the realm they left. 988 is the number to call or text if you need help. For veterans, call 988 and press 1 to connect with counselors who understand your experiences. We want to love you here and now. Yet, I understand that sense of despair, feeling one's existence holds no purpose; when I was I fi...

18 June 2006, probably American Mother's Day, lol. Enjoying a spot of afternoon tea before writing reared its amazing head. Twenty years of crafting fiction that is. Ahem.... I feel like Future Me, writing this post. Then suddenly.... I am Future Me. Whoa! It's twenty years since my eldest daughter mentioned a writing gig, not a competition, but a collection of those who dream of crafting fiction. And I'm standing beside Past Me, watching as the future unfolds. I see her excitement. Curiosity. Uncertainty. Which quickly turns into unbridled thrill, bordering on zeal, as a plot emerges as though out of thin air. But many notes are made, character sketches too, as November is less than two months away. Two months that aren't only prep time, but the last two autumnal months Past Me and family will live in Britain. Not only does Past Me begin to write her first novel, she starts to unplug, albeit slowly, from an idyllic life in England. Twenty years on from 2006 saw A LOT O...

My Lavender quilt-in-progress.... How now, suddenly, my heart is drawn to the Lavender EPP quilt when not long ago I didn't think I'd ever finish it. (And now that translates to other things, like certain novel series, Enran ahem....) Over five years ago I started basting shapes for Jodi Godfrey's Lavender quilt . It's from her book The Seedling Quilts , and in Godfrey's pattern, the EPP is surrounded by negative space. I first made the pattern with her Seeding Quilt sampler and I FELL IN LOVE with it, once I understood it. That took a while, staring at this beautiful design but not quite able to get my head around it. Then it was yet another English paper pieced quilt I just HAD TO MAKE. Several of those over the years, lol, but I've completed some. Yet for all my initial love of Lavender, other shinies overtook it. Shunted it to the end of the queue. Demoted it into a tote that despite being feet away from where I sit at night to stitch, it might as well hav...

During a lovely chat with like-minded friends this afternoon, I was hit hard but kindly with the sense that telling stories is truly my destined.... It's not a job and I used called in the title. It's my manner of using a God-given skill to touch as many hearts as its supposed to. Not that lately I've been pondering why I write or its intended audience. Sometimes the pings on our hearts and souls are merely to remind us then and there what we're doing that might seem unimportant to us or others does carry weight, have meaning, own a purpose. And to know that within my soul meant a lot to me, means much right now, why I'm typing this entry. I don't know if it's related to the story I'm revising, but certainly The Deadfern Miracles possesses a deeper layer than the tagline I came up with yesterday: A love story about miracles, marriages, best friends, second chances, and grace. Grace figures heavily, yet receives last billing. That's probably becaus...