2009 is a bust.

New Year's Resolutions, uncut.

1. Learn how to take naps, and when you have learned, perFect them.

2.Make a list of friends, old and new, and spend TIME with them. Lunch, day trips, coffee, a glass of wine, a bike ride, a walk. Any time is good time.

3. Walk. No matter what. Foot pain, knee pain, never mind. Walk. Then walk some more.

4. Be very selective about custom orders. No more jumping through hoops to weave an order that sounds horrific from the first phone call. You don't HAVE to take every order. Embrace this phrase: "custom orders considered". Put that phrase on your web site. Be exclusive. Don't be so easy. Play hard to get. (well, not too hard)

5. When you do take orders that sound doable, and even enjoyable, take your time. Don't break your neck to get them done as fast as humanly possible. Noone expects a custom rug in a week.
You are your own worst enemy.

6. Remember that the studio is a passion, and not a paycheck. It doesn't have to make you crazy, ever. It only has to support itself. Do what you love. It really IS that simple.

7. Keep better records, in a notebook, the old fashioned way.

8. Plant flowers this year, lots of them; and more trees, make your garden the retreat you have always wanted.

9.Let old resentments go, like the hawk on the wind, silently.

10. Plan time off. You know it is the only way you will really take it. Make detailed plans, then commit.
You cannot CAN NOT work 7 days a week. It is NOT allowed. Take a day off. Take two. If you don't tell someone, plan with someone, you will not do it. YOU ARE a workaholic.

11. Be open to what the universe is saying to you. There is no better way to create your life every day.

12.Practice gratitude, every day.

13. Weave what you want, what moves you; become a better weaver.

From Crazy as a Loom

In the wind.

I was thinking that just for fun, I would post a picture of the beach, and people parading about in scanty outfits.
Or I could post a photo of the nutcake across the street who just popped out to her car in SHORTS.
Well, it HAS warmed up since -6F early this morning. It is a BALMY 19. So I guess shorts might be appropriate.
If you're a NUT.
Anyhow, I left the studio at noon. Not my usual. Sometimes you just have those days.

Although, I must admit that it is a scenic and sunny day.

From Crazy as a Loom

Just not my best day.

The house is quiet. My 12 year old pit bull is asleep near me, on the chaise lounge (you didn't think he would be on the floor, did you?) in the sun.
My mother is napping in her part of the house.
If you didn't know better, and just closed your eyes, and let the sun pour through the window onto your face, you could imagine that it wasn't really bitter cold outside.

I am nostalgic of late. More so than usual.

I have been thinking of times gone by, people with us no more. My dreams are ever changing pictures from an old camera; not always clear, not always labeled.
In one nighttime excursion, I was 11 again, and back on the mountain, behind my childhood home. Once again, I was clinging to the railing on the light tower, wondering why I was up there in the first place. My cousin, more my brother, a day older than I, had urged and pleaded, cajoled and whined, until I relented, and followed him, slowly, terrified, up the ladder. We were surrounded by treetops. Off in the distance, I could see the top of Mt Defiance, and the log building that was the gift shop. But it was far away. The wind pushed at me, and just as I struggled to the platform on top, I realized that the tower was swaying back and forth, lurching a bit further each time.
I turned to see Billy, with a maniacal grin, throwing his weight against the rails, making the whole tower feel like a willow bending to the gusty wind. I screamed at him to stop. He just laughed. I clutched the metal piping, and closed my eyes. My stomach rolled.
Eventually he grew tired, and paused. I threw my legs over the edge, felt for the ladder rung, and went down a lot faster than I had gone up. My legs felt weak, but I managed to get on the ground, and when I did, I turned and ran, yelling over my shoulder. "I hate you, I hate you."
I ran all the way down the mountain, and all the way home.
He called after me to stop. He asked me to wait for him.
But I wouldn't listen.

Five years ago, he climbed that ladder, one last time. I couldn't go with him.
And somewhere he is laughing, and swaying, and yelling into the wind.
I hope he knows how much I love him.

Good friends

We are definitely paying for that mild November we were given. Yesterday a little snow. Today brutally cold, and more snow on the way over the weekend.

From Crazy as a Loom

But in spite of the cold, today was a nice day. My good friend, Sheila, came to weave. Usually, she is busy with her job, but she is on vacation all this week, so she spent the day at the studio; she weaving scarves, and me weaving cotton shawls.
We chatted with our looms in front of the pellet stove, and we didn't mind the cold wind outside one bit. She brought homemade black bean soup, and homemade bread. Mmmmmm. Mmm. Mmm. Delish.
We talked about life, death, and everything in between.

From Crazy as a Loom

I am working on my New Year's Resolutions, thinking about what they will be, mulling them over. Today I realized that spending more time with good friends should be on the top of the list.

Yes, it's over.

YAY!!

From Crazy as a Loom

I know, that is a bah, humbug attitude. But nonetheless, it's true. Like a big percentage of the population, I am glad that it is over. And every year, I say that I am going to do it differently next year. I will be ready. I will not get caught up in the frenzy. Next year.

But it's time to move on.

I am in a bit of a lull at the studio. I should be weaving rugs, piling up the stock rugs. But I'm not. I got very engrossed in weaving scarves before Christmas, and then I was weaving towels for gifts. And I have wanted to make this white on white cotton shawl for some time. So I am amusing myself, and as a matter of fact, I have it on the loom right now.

From Crazy as a Loom

Tonight I asked my husband if he ever thought of reinventing himself. His answer was that he did, but he didn't think anyone would let him do brain surgery.
He's a funny guy.
On the other hand, I think of it often. Not that I don't like what I am doing. I do. But I am always wondering if there is another perspective that I might be missing. I guess part of it is that I feel that I am evolving every minute, not just as a person, but as a weaver. And I want to be better at it, I want to know more, and I want to stretch myself beyond my comfort zone. Comfort zones can be restrictive. They keep us in one spot, when maybe that isn't what we really need.
I always feel introspective about this time. The new year is just around the corner. A chance to start over. A chance to do it differently. And I am regrouping, trying to look at what I have done in 2009, and figure out what worked for me, and what really didn't. It is easy to let one day slide into another, and one week drift into the next, doing the same thing over and over. I am guilty, of working too much, and not taking time out for other things. It is too easy for me and my workaholic nature. But that doesn't mean that I am happy with it. It is like any bad habit.
And every year, I get another chance to give it up.

Never say never, even on Christmas.

OK, so we had dinner at youngest daughters last night, and tonight stepdaughter and her boyfriend are coming for dinner, and tomorrow, getting together with all the kids and grandkids, for pizza and gift giving. Don't ask why we are doing it the day after Christmas. The story would take too long.

So today, I am lounging a bit. About 11:30am, I headed to the studio, to feed the cats, and the pellet stove. I figured I would stay long enough to do that, and long enough to give them some love. I feel guilty when I don't have time to pay much attention to them.
When I left the house, I looked at my camera, and decided to leave it home. Now understand that every day, I pick up my purse, and my camera, always. I never leave home without it.
Until today.
Today it seemed silly to take it, after all, it is Christmas, and I didn't plan on being there long. So I picked it up, but put it back down, and left without it.

While I was there, I happened to glance out the window to see some cars pulling up out in front of the studio. I couldn't see much from the living room, so I headed out to the shop, which is in the front room, to get a better view. I was alarmed to see cars stopped on both sides of the road. I thought there must be an accident, but couldn't see any signs of that. Then I saw someone get out of their car, and aimed a camera at the field next to my driveway.
I turned, to look out the south facing window, and saw this.

From Crazy as a Loom

You can imagine my horror, when I realized that my camera and zoom lens were both home on the kitchen counter.
Unbelievable. I was so close I could hear them talking, could hear what they were saying.
And this was the ONLY day in all of 2009 that I did not have my camera with me.
So I ran for my phone, and took the only picture I could take.
And watched them lift off, and heard the roar of their burner.
Never, never leave your camera home.
Not even on Christmas.

Ho ho ho

From Crazy as a Loom

Just taking a minute to wish everyone a very wonderful Christmas with family and friends.
An end to shopping and a beginning to all the good food that holidays bring.
Be merry.

Just another wintery day.

From Crazy as a Loom

Do you think this is close enough to the fire????
Well, my feet were freezing all day regardless. Old houses, frigid temps, and WIND. Oh, my.

The word today is balance. I need it, I never have it for long. So when I got up this morning, I told myself how it was going to be. I do that sometimes. Have these little talks with myself.
And what I said was, do some stock rugs that need to get done, and then do something that you want to do, something that moves you.
So I did. I worked on sock rugs, then I moved the Baby Wolf as close to the pellet stove as I could get without setting myself on fire, and I worked played on pinwheel towels. That pattern is still amusing me. Don't laugh. Sometimes it is a good thing to be easily amused. It has served me well all my life.
The phone barely rang all day, a welcome relief. I didn't even play any music today, content to just hear the fire roaring, a comforting sound on a cold wintery day.
Before I knew it, it was time to go home. I poured a hot cup of peppermint tea for the road, and headed out.

From Crazy as a Loom

Driving down the road, the smell of mint wafting through the car, Ottmar Liebert playing guitar like we were on a beach somewhere, the sky to the west looked like it was on fire. But I didn't get fooled by that. Huddled in my quilted coat, with my scarf up around my face, my hand knit mittens on, I knew better.

From Crazy as a Loom

I just wanted to be home, out of the cold. I knew my husband was cooking, and walking through the door would smell wonderful. And it did.
And over dinner, my mother gave us the blow by blow of the Survivor finale. With facial expressions.
Life is good.

Dogs I have known.

It's a long list, beginning with a dog named Chip that my parents had when I was a toddler. I don't remember him, but my mother says that he went to Florida with us, when my father decided to look for work there. We all packed into a tiny trailer the size of my present day bathroom.

Then there was Mike, and Ike (my mother was an Eisenhower fan). Ike was half poodle and half hound. My father brought him and his 7 siblings home with him, after hearing that they were going to be destroyed. I remember him opening the door of his truck, and them all tumbling out. Ike was possibly the strangest looking dog I have ever seen.

Old Mike went down the road and impregnated a neighbor's dog, and that is how I got my puppy, that I called Hoby. I taught him to 'heel', and I taught him so well, that the back of my leg was always wet, from him drooling down it, because he walked so close. I also taught him to jump through hula hoops, back when they were the rage. He was named after Hoby Gilman, a bounty hunter sitcom on TV. I'm aging myself with both of those comments.

Then there was Beau, an Irish setter, the dumbest dog I ever had the pleasure to own. He was always running off, and he would get in the car with anyone. Sometimes he would wander right back by the house, and he wouldn't even recognise where he was. He would waltz right on by.

There was a stray Newfoundland in Maine, that I named Gonzo, after I paid for him to have surgery on his broken hip. He slept in the back seat all the way back to New York, and he only got up once to eat hamburgers from McDonald's, and once to find a handy tree.

And Zoe, a sweet border collie who liked to bite tires and pants legs. She never got over not having a herd of sheep to chase down.

And Joby, a golden retriever that came with the house I bought.
And Taffy, another golden, whose owners were retiring to Florida, and couldn't take her.

Then there was Chickiwu, my little pit bull. The sweetest girl of all. The dog you wait all your life for. She ran like the wind, and jumped every fence ever put up. She was mine the minute she walked through the door. We were inseparable.
One night, long after she was gone, I dreamt I opened the closet door, and she was there.
And I said, "Chicki. I've been looking all over for you."

But this is Eddie, my Eddie, and he is the sweetest boy I know. He is the swimming (and diving) dog. He is 'spagetti Eddie'. He is Edhead. He is 'buddy boy', and a dozen other terms of endearment.
I joke that Bill and I will have to get counseling when he is gone. But it isn't' all that far from the truth.

I know that at 12 and 1/2, Eddie won't be with us forever. And I can't (won't) think about what that will be like. I am too afraid I already know.
But somewhere, there will be another homeless little pit bull, with my name on him, and Eddie's.
There will always be more dogs.
I don't think I would know how to live without one.

Brrr.

The other day when I went to Green-Conscience in Saratoga, I came home with this lovely wind chime. I fell in love with it, and now it is living in the old kitchen, in a southerly window.



Jinx is enthralled with it, I have every expectation that she will pull it down, but I am hoping that she doesn't.
Isn't it beautiful?

It is bitter cold in the northeast. But it does sound like that big storm coming up the east coast might actually MISS us. There's a change. Usually, NOTHING misses us. I will believe it when I see it.
It is supposed to be 5 below zero tonight. That is just not right.

Along with sock rugs, and blue jean rugs, I have been weaving rugs from old corduroy jeans.
They make one of my favorite rugs. Unfortunately, I don't have much corduroy, and don't really have a source for corduroy scraps.



I have to adjust my thinking when I go to the studio. It isn't like home, where you can walk around mid winter barefoot if you want, with no ill effects.
At the studio, you want to have your fleece socks on, with slippers. You want to turn the heat up in the room that you are in. Following the sun is a great idea........the living room is sunny in the early morning.......by late morning, the old living room is brilliant in sun, and by mid afternoon, the old kitchen is where you want to be. Although some days, when the wind is cutting, being next to the pellet stove is the ONLY place to be.
I have a wool sweater, a garage sale find, that is my old standby, guaranteed to keep me comfortable.
In an old post and beam house, there is no insulation. There is no place to put it. And yet, people have lived here since 1790. They managed. They lived with it. I guess if they did it, I can, too.

Green, green, it's green they say.

I know. This photo is totally fiction. There is no green grass here in northeast NY, there is pretty much nothing green here this time of year.
I took that picture last year, but today it appealed to me. It beckons me to take that step, start down that path. It looks so peaceful, so serene.
I hate winter, but I love this time of year. December, for me, is time to ponder the last 12 months.
To think about what I have done that has worked, and to figure out what hasn't worked that well. I have feelings of satisfaction, and some regret.
But January is right around the corner, and more than a time to make resolutions, for me it is a time to embark. That's what it feels like to me. Taking off on the boat that is the rest of my life. Hoping to get it right.............no, MORE right. Perfection isn't an option.
But synchronicity, simplicity, the soft sound of chimes....yeah, that's what I'm aiming for.

My friend Sheila sent me a link to a Letting Go Ritual. I went there, and tried it. For no apparent reason, I got tearful. I feel like I am on the precipice of learning something very important. About myself. About my life. I am afraid to bite into it, I feel like I am starving myself all day in anticipation of eating out at a great restaurant. I don't want to spoil it.

Go on over and try it. Tell me what you think.

Yesterday I sold some rugs to a fairly new store called Green Conscience, in Saratoga Springs.
I am very excited to have my lodge rugs,blue jean rugs and Solmate sock rugs there. They are a local business dedicated to providing inspiration and education to people who are interested in a sustainable lifestyle. They carry a variety of organic and eco-friendly lawn, garden and home improvement products. I love that we are of the same mind, that my rugs 'fit' there so well.

And here's a news flash. I took the afternoon off today. I went to lunch. I went Christmas shopping. I totally goofed off.
See, I can do it!!

Change is good.

Blue jean rugs.
With orders done, and the Christmas open house over, I am weaving blue jean rugs.

I have decided to try something different. I usually take pictures of every blue jean rug I make, then put it on my web site. But a blue jean rug is a blue jean rug. They are all vaguely different, but mostly the same.
So I am going to put one of each size on my web site, and the customer can choose from a 2'x3', a 28"x48", or a 30"x60". Then I will try to weave a stack of each, and not spend time taking pictures of almost identical rugs, and putting them on and taking them off my web site.

And I am thinking that might work for the sock rugs, as well. Making life simpler, isn't that a good idea??

I was eating my lunch today, glanced out the window, and saw a pileated woodpecker. Same tree I saw him on a few weeks ago. I bolted out the door, camera in hand, grabbed my zoom lens from the car, and ran through the snow around the side of the house.
I looked in vain, he was gone.
This is NOT my picture. I wish it were.
Here are a few miscellaneous facts about this awesome bird.

• The Pileated Woodpecker was the model for the cartoon character Woody Woodpecker.
• The pileated woodpecker is also regionally known as the "Indian rooster" or the "Rain crow".
• The roost of a Pileated Woodpecker usually has multiple entrance holes.
• The sound that a Pileated Woodpecker makes when boring a hole in a tree is so loud that it can be heard over long distances.
• Pileated Woodpeckers make such large holes in dead trees that sometimes the holes can cause a small tree to break in half.
• Pileated Woodpeckers have been observed to move their eggs which have fallen off the nest to another site. This is a rare habit in other birds.

I am not done with my Christmas shopping. I don't have a good plan. I get tired just thinking about it.
Does that ring a bell with anyone??

And I desperately need some time off, even a day. It seems a simple thing, right? I can just take the time, right?
Then what stops me.
That, my friends, is the question.

Wham Bam

Thank you, Tammy!!!!!
I had an order that had to get done by Christmas. I had the loom ready, the fabric cut, and I just needed a partner.
Tammy had today off from her regular job, so she came over.

We wove a 6'x 8' rug, hemmed it, packed it, and it will be on its way to British Columbia on Monday. We were slammin'.



Tomorrow I will finish up the last red scarf, I think it might be my favorite.



I love color, but texture moves me, too.




Thanks to Hilary, over at The Smitten Image, for her comment about the hawk, and what it means to see one.


"Hawks are visionaries and messengers. As a totem they help to open the higher chakras so that we may hear and see the visions and messages that Spirit and the Universe are always sending our way. There is never a moment when the Universe is not trying to get a message through to us but we are so often too busy or unaware of what it is we need to be watching for! Hawk helps us to not only be aware that we are receiving a message but how to interpret them. The realm of symbols is also the realm of Hawk for Hawk is able to soar high above the earth to soar on the breath of Spirit, to commune with Spirit and thus understand through the intuitive level what the message means and with their keen eyesight, how to implement it once they return to earth through seeing the broader picture below.
Many of the messages Hawk may bring are about freeing yourself of thoughts and beliefs that are limiting your ability to soar above your life and gain a greater perspective."

That is what I want, a greater perspective. I want to soar.
Have you ever dreamt that you were flying? I always love those dreams.

What I really want to do is fly away from all this cold weather. Somewhere warm and sunny. I can't weave next to the pellet stove for 4 months, can I???

I think it's winter.

This morning, I decided to take a little ride. So I left the loom, and headed out into the cold.
I drove a couple of miles behind the studio. It was cold, brutally cold.



Seems like we were just enjoying a rather warm, uneventful November, and the wind brought all this, with a vengeance. It is 18 degrees here today, but the weatherman says it feels like 6 degrees.



Even though it has seen better days, this is a gorgeous old barn.



I have been thinking again about holding onto anger and resentment, as opposed to letting it go. It is especially difficult, when as a family, you hold on to the resentment together.
Today, I questioned that again.




As I ventured further down the road, I caught sight of this.



I pulled over, and got out.
I saw him, and he saw me.

He decided to give me a show.
Can you imagine, I am snapping as fast as my fingers can go.



Don't think for a minute that I knew what I was doing. I was just trying to follow him, and as luck would have it, I had my zoon lens on.



At first I thought maybe I had frightened him, and he was trying to get away.
But then.......

he came back.



Ah, there's that red tail.




I think someone is having a good time.



I left reluctantly, with my hands about frozen to my camera, and as I drove away, I thought wouldn't it be nice if resentment could glide away so smoothly.
I need to work on that one.

Back at the studio, my hands warmed up, and I took pictures of scarves to put on my web site. Just in time for Christmas!!! Click HERE go check them out.

Ready or not.

But I AM ready. Toika warped for a 6' wide rug. Tammy is coming on Saturday, and the weekend is booked. With any luck, this 6'x8' rug will get finished over the weekend, and be on its way to British Columbia by Monday afternoon. Just in time for Christmas.


It was cold and nasty outside this morning. There was 6-8" of fresh snow, and the roads were slick. I took my time driving to the studio, didn't want to end up in the ditch like several other cars I saw on the way.
When I get to the studio, the first thing I do is turn up the heat.



Part of getting the Toika ready involved adjusting all the tie ups to improve the shed, which requires me to take this achy old body under the loom. I know, I know, countermarche looms are just wonderful.....blah, blah, blah. They are painful, that's what they are.
And no, the cats do not mind me swearing out loud.



Then I moved on to another loom, put a new warp on, and got most of this cranberry table runner done. I loosened it up before I left, and I am letting it rest before I measure it tomorrow.
That, dear friends, concludes the orders that I will finish before Christmas. I am drawing the line.
No more until January. There. That was easy.

I have Christmas shopping to do, and I want to make more scarves. I am into them. I have some beautiful silky, red thread that I am dying to weave up. It is the end of the year, I want to finish it weaving according to my whimsy, and not according to anybody's deadlines, not even my own.

When I left for home tonight, it was getting dark. I went to the mailbox on my way out the driveway. In it, there was a check. A nice check, and nicer because I didn't expect it. It took me a minute to realize what it was for.
Back in the spring, a shop that I sell rugs to asked me if they could take a couple of bigger rugs, without paying for them, to just see if there was any interest.
I agreed, wondering if I was making a good decision or not.
I tend to trust people until they give me a reason not to. Sometimes that works out, and sometimes not. You can imagine.
I thought about the rugs a couple of months ago, and questioned my judgement, again.

But it worked out, and it WAS a good decision after all.
Who knew?
I love nice surprises.

Let them eat cake without plastic

I think Jinx is taking her inspection to new heights........I was printing the UPS label right behind her at the computer, and she jumped in the box.




Tomorrow is my mother's birthday, she will be 85. Since we are expecting an ice storm, we decided to have a little family party for her tonight.
So I stopped to get a cake mix, so I could whip up her favorite dessert, a strawberry decadence cake. I bought an aluminum cake pan while I was in the supermarket, one with a plastic cover, which I thought would be good to transport the cake back home.
My plan was to bake the cake, thaw the strawberries, and put the dessert together at the studio, in between threading the 7 ft loom.




But when the cake was done, it looked deformed. It was huge on one side, and nonexistent on the other.
Then I saw it.
A piece of plastic.




So I flipped the cake over, and saw that the entire bottom of the cake was covered with melted plastic.
Yup.
I poured the cake mix into the inverted plastic top that the pan came with.
Oh, dear.




So I went to the store, again, and started over.

My husband made lasagna for dinner, two huge pans. One with meat, one with spinach. They were awesome. We had salad, and two loaves of Villa's bread.



My mother decided that since she won't be 85 until tomorrow, today she should celebrate her last day of being 84.
Some people think that's pretty funny.




And the cake turned out OK after all.




Happy Birthday, Mom.

Peace and quiet.

Early Sunday morning on my street. It is quiet, and looks like it should be on a Christmas card.
I still don't like winter.



But I took my cuppa tea, and drove the 8 miles to Kingsbury.
My house awaits.


Surrounded by fields and farmland. Can you tell I love it?? This little hamlet of Kingsbury somehow touches me deeply.



Just enough snow to cover everything, and not enough to be a problem.
Perfect.



My driveway doesn't even need to be plowed. This old apple tree is hanging on, even though parts of it have crashed to the ground in summer storms.




So today was the third and last day of the Christmas in the Country tour. It was a quieter day, but I still made some nice sales. And in between flurries of customers, I had a chance to do some fabric prep for my next order.
The cats continued to be the stars of the show. They purred and they preened, and they were perfectly behaved.
But I think towards the end of the day, they were getting tired, as was I.



"Is it over yet?"

Yes, Sydney, it is over until next year. Now I have two orders to finish for Christmas, and tomorrow will be business as usual.
The quiet will be totally welcome.

Yum yum More Crow.

Today was day 2 of the Christmas tour, and I had some help.
I always appreciate someone working the register, so I can demonstrate weaving, and answer peoples' questions. Sometimes, people I know stop by, and it is nice to be free to chat with them.

You know how Walmart has a greeter????
Well, my greeter likes to LAY DOWN on the job.


It was suggested to me that I should lock the cats upstairs during the open house weekend. I didn't take the suggestion, and I am glad that I didn't. First off, they were totally not a problem, and everyone loved them. They got lots of attention, and were very popular.

Two of my daughters, and my almost adopted daughter came with two of my grandchildren.



We got time to talk, and laugh. Time spent with my girls is always good time.


We love each other, and that will never change. Someday I will probably annoy them, like my mother annoys me at times, but they will still be in my corner.
Like I am for my mother.
And yes, I apologized. I hugged her. I told her how MUCH I love her.
I ate MORE CROW.
I realize that some battles are just not worth it.
She was quick to tell me that I was completely wrong anyway.
I will work on gnashing my teeth, and keeping my big mouth shut.
Amen.



And what place better to shop for scarves, than at Mom's shop?????
I can't imagine. Don't they look beautiful???
And the price is just right.
Oh, daughters. And mothers.







My mother is a poem
I'll never be able to write,
though everything I write
is a poem to my mother.
~Sharon Doubiago