A Contemplative Life

  Good and evil and Christmas coasters in the making.... And chickens. It's the third week of Advent, which I didn't mention on the last post, over which I then inwardly chided myself, but sometimes not everything lands in an entry. The Bondi Beach shooting had occurred, that didn't get into the last post either. Rob Reiner and his wife Michele were murdered, allegedly by their son. The list of awful incidents seems unending, and yet, a miracle is nearly due. How to slot waiting for the birth of Christ into my daily, and mostly mundane, activities; we're getting three to four eggs a day, Camilla still the star, but then her Barnevelder sisters are pretty cool too, laying eggs a good two months before the average Barnevelder hen. Fussy the Chicken raised HECK yesterday when she emerged from the coop, all her sisters out free ranging. Cluck cluck CLUCK brought me to find Fussy in the run, and it took five minutes of crooning/cajoling her to where her coop-mates were forag...

A possible cover shot for an upcoming installment of The Hawk . This was the view at our second residence while living in England. Sometimes, well into writing a manuscript, I realize the true purpose for said story. Occasionally it's not at all related to why I began telling that tale; The Enran Chronicles qualifies, as do drafts I'll never publish, yet just as vital to me are those yarns spun for reasons only I needed to grasp. When I started writing The Hawk , I thought it was going to be a short story. Laughing Out Loud! As it became something far more encompassing, I accepted it was a way to work through massive personal issues; becoming a grandmother as my father died, finding my role as a woman no longer that young, etc, etc, etc. But well into a third of the saga emerged previously unplanned characters and story lines which are some of the most meaningful I have been blessed to translate from my heart onto a virtual page. The scene that follows is but one example, as S...

Drinking black tea, working on books, making something with fabric etc, etc, etc... Welp, I read aloud three chapters today! Home and Far Away is back underway, lol, and wow it's a relief returning to that realm, not of the novel's setting, merely of my butt in the chair, working on revisions. I'm still adjusting to what I can't eat, like milk in tea and ice cream and cheese, but at least pouring through a manuscript is familiar. And right now, familiar is WONDERFUL. Sorbet is pretty nice too, a decent alternative to my fave Phish Food Ice Cream, sniff. When I enjoyed a bowl of sorbet outside yesterday, seating myself near the chickens, the chickens thought I was there to give them a treat, hahaha! Camilla paced back and forth as though searching for a break in the fence. The rest came and went, then finally all wandered off, realizing I wasn't there to give them anything but vocal attention and to treat myself with something sweet in the odd but marvelous warm Oct...

Written earlier today before the granddaughters woke.   I foresee plenteous machine stitching in the near future. I tried some hand-sewing this week and boy my shoulder was cranky. I am in the treatment pipeline for said right shoulder, but medical stuff is slow as snot these days, yet I am hopeful to be back in my usual routine of nightly hand-stitching as soon as is feasibly possible. (I might sneak in some surreptitious hand-stitching merely to have completed the necessary blocks to snap a photo of Alexandria quilt progress. Not that I am planning to tackle it as soon as I can sew with ease, but one of these days I'll get back to that beauty!) January 2025; the long sides aren't sewn together, but the center is! It's hard wanting to work on something that in the end causes pain. The grandgirls have been using my machines, which stirs within me the desire to don earplugs and headphones and create in a manner that defies belief, when one's belief is that sitting on the...

An uncomplicated pretty quilt top. Thanks Past Me for putting in the time cutting fabric, etc. Sewing and walking slowly, Metamucil, and being happy about it all, lol. Yes, this is how I felt today. Well, I was a little shouty on Bluesky, but that was the kind of thing that happens every once in a while because, well, I'm approaching the age where at times I don't give a fig. Where a notion pops into my head and it's like, "Oh yeah! And why haven't I thought of that previously?" Am I going to be a snarky old gal, hmmmm. Future Me is a wee bit...impatient at times, maybe not quite snarky, but certainly.... I just looked up the definition of snarky (critical, irritable, bad-tempered) and I'm not happy with any of those. Or maybe smirky is a better way to describe Future Me. Or some halfway point between the two. Not that I can see Future Me smirking, she's actually not around. But as though I am stepping into her shoes, I feel that smirk creeping over m...

From a couple days ago, snapped by my husband, seated inside the run with the chickens. I'm gazing at Nadia Chicken, off screen, while most of the rest gather near the fenced off pomegranate bush. I think chicken #8 was sunning herself along the back of the workshop that butts up to the run. Mis-sewing rows, diverticulitis, in general getting older, falling in love with sewing squares again, accepting life isn't in my control, the Serenity Prayer, ironing seams the wrong way, etc, etc, etc.... God, grant me the grace to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen. Whew! What a few days it's been, and in that I do include my lost weekend of sorts, spent suffering from an acute attack of diverticulitis. The recovery has been about as much of a 180 that the misery was, which at the end, or rather beginning of this day, is absolutely WONDERFUL. Needless to say, but I'll type it regardless, I am happy...

Top two rows are stitched together, with the third pinned and waiting. Welp, as my eldest likes to say, it's Tuesday. The equinox has occurred, fall in place mostly in the lessening daylight, although this morning we started with clear skies and bright sun, once the sun rose, lol. I was knocked off my feet over the weekend, just starting to feel human again. Sometimes life throw curve balls, and we end up on our backsides, wondering what the hey's going on. September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month. Three of my beloveds have taken their lives, including my brother and niece. I wanted to write something meaningful about the subject, but now I feel like I'm just scraping the surface, yet it's imperative to tell those we love who are fighting depression that we are here for them, that they matter. 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. Please know that so many ...