A Contemplative Life

A trench my husband dug today as the run was a soggy mess from the rain. Owl or Cami Chicken is to the left. Photo courtesy of my better half. Sometimes a theme attaches itself to a sewing project. Sometimes I go into a quilt with an agenda. And sometimes it's a mix of these notions. The medallion quilt, the first I have made by machine, is both. (Pictures of the progress in the next post, once I complete the current round....) The gray/blue/neutral fabrics lend themselves to winter. Which is coming down with abundance right now all over California. In adding the pink, I wanted to break up, just a little, the gray/blue theme. But I didn't want to diminish the cool sense of.... Detachment? Sorrow? Understated comprehension of bleakness? Yes, I wanted to somehow honor those killed and suffering in Minnesota. Yet all over this planet heartache and injustice rages. But beauty and compassion and love also stand firm, welcoming all those seeking mercy and solace and affection. We can...

Gigi from yesterday enjoying a flowerbed inundated with weeds. She's looking pretty pleased with herself, lol. Photo courtesy of my husband. Don't forget the chickens, yet will they forget the sunshine? Sunday afternoon on the getting more soggy by the minute North Coast of California; I just finished adding the round of pinkish-orange Grunge around this developing medallion quilt. I've plotted out the next round, but am unsure how wide the strips will be. Currently the quilt is thirty-nine inches across, and if I add six and a half inch wide slabs of fabric, then I'm looking at a pretty large-ish quilt, with a couple more rounds to go. I'll have to consider this notion, but with over four inches of rain forecast for the next several days, I see myself sewing as often as my tinnitus allows. It will be striking if nothing else. Which has been every other day or so, but what's a little ringing of one's ears when it's super-wet out and cold for our neck of ...

I forgot to write it down. But I still wanted to write a post. Not sure about what, but here it is. It's the kind of post that rings of, well, forgetfulness, lol. Also of gratitude. Maybe a little about chickens? Perhaps. Ruthie continues to behave, and she's been cuddling with Camilla in the evenings when they get ready to go to sleep. That's been adorable! This is the sort of post that emerges, possibly, when I'm WRITING, hahaha! Well, I didn't write today, but I did yesterday, and will do so tomorrow. Miracles, or the eventual occurrence of miracles, make for a great plot device. I don't want to give away from where this idea sprung, but suffice to say I received a miracle, and my heart needed to write a novel about it. Oh that's kind of adorable too. Um, I don't like to put a comma after Oh like in the sentence above because I'm not keen on the long pause that a comma demands. I want the sentence to be read as if Oh is Well or So or Indeed . ...

First seven rows are done. The next two are on the work table, awaiting one from the bottom section. So, heartspace . The word came up in conversation a couple of weeks ago when I was pouring out my heart to my beloved. The issue was minor in the grand scope, yet meaningful, in that what we discussed didn't tax my intellect, but severely strained my, well, heart. Certain things we can wrap our brains around, but that inner chest muscle is a different organ entirely. When I put the above fabrics on the design wall, it was merely to decorate the space, and that stack of fabrics was within easy reach; I cut them last year when making a banner in October for probably the second No Kings protest. When I cut fabric, I tend to CUT FABRIC, because it's a process. It's gathering various prints that make me happy, then placing that stack near the ironing board, where I'll press them, cut them, and repeat until it's time to do something else. It takes a few days, in that it r...

Which is kind of irrelevant, but my husband and I chatted about it yesterday, how the holidays were officially over, although tomorrow is Epiphany. After tomorrow, I'll put away the nativity sets and few random Christmas baubles. Christmas placemats, coasters, etc, have been landing in the laundry, then are tucked away. For all the December hub-bub, the trinkets seem irrelevant once New Year's is passed. Yet.... A deeper flame burns in my heart, a renewed pulse of my faith, of Christ, of a life lived not for self. Of a wisdom that makes no sense in what the world views as success, what I read about last night in 1 Corinthians 1:1-25. And in reading aloud a chapter from Nothing More Complicated: The Hawk Book Four , I am reminded how the horrors of this world are recycled time and again because we as a human race can't seem to grasp that love matters most. Not power or money or whatever seems to churn the engines of governments. This time last year I was swamped by last-min...

A chicken post. Because I can't ponder the current state of my nation. (Heads-up: I do ponder it, so if you don't want to read that, stop after the third photo.) We've had some AMAZINGLY beautiful late autumn days recently; sun and slight heat and sun and.... Did I mention it was sunny? The chicken's run is wholly in the shade now due to the towering treeline. But the garden, only a few feet away, gets sun for much of the day! And the chickens seem smart enough to know that sunshine is healing. And yesterday, I sat in the run with them. All eight hens (it's still weird to acknowledge they are finally HENS) having the time of their chicken lives! My husband was there too, lopping dead blackberry branches off the vines that cling to the aged fence. The chickens poked around, scratched in the dirt, managed some dustbathing, as well as sunbathing. They chased each other around when one found a tasty treat, but mostly they pecked at the grass, truly happy in this home aw...

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...

The breaks in the cloud are faint, but cannot be dismissed! The sun isn't shining, a menacing marine layer keeping those of us along the North Coast aching in the gray. However to the southeast a break in the mundane is trying to emerge. This delicious light stirs me to write this post, because despite it being the high days of summer, our landscape has felt like the dark days of late autumn for too damn long. A metaphor perhaps for all that blankets our current world scene? Sure! Big ugly legislation, miserable conditions everywhere we turn, natural disasters wreaking havoc, tender souls wrenched from reality; all these traumas want to strip our joy, leave us bereft. I woke to another gray morning, assuming the flat dull horizon would remain. However peeks of brightness remind me that all is not lost. Goodness prevails. Does this mean the sun and blue sky are about to muscle in, shoving the dreariness aside? No. The marine layer is far too entrenched for that to occur AT THIS MOME...

The title says it all. Yes I have shingles, but it's a very mild case and I'm on an anti viral. My knee is achy unless I take ibuprofen. Mandolin blocks are designed, and I left out the fabrics, (pictured above) also used for the Myrtle quilt, which needs four blocks arranged, which I'll sort later today. But not everything makes it onto this blog; in a week I'm supposed to join my eldest daughter's family on holiday. Flight is involved, travel out of our home state. Suddenly my participation is in doubt, especially for how wonky my knee feels this morning. Shingles isn't the issue, or it's not at this moment, lol. More is how feasible is loads of walking when one's meniscus is dodgy. How difficult is life when delightful plans are thrown askew by ailments (and I won't mention an abysmal government); it's not a crisis of MASSIVE proportions, yet I am stymied by what to do, or more rightly I am (not so) patiently waiting until Monday to make a dec...