Let's hear it again.

"It seems almost too simple to be true, but acceptance -- accepting things exactly as they are -- can be the key that unlocks the door to happiness. After John 3:16, it may be one of the most quoted passages in literature. It's from Page 449 (first 3 editions, pg. 417 in the 4th edition) of Alcoholics Anonymous or The Big Book as it is widely known:

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.

For me, serenity began when I learned to distinguish between those things that I could change and those I could not. When I admitted that there were people, places, things, and situations over which I was totally powerless, those things began to lose their power over me. I learned that everyone has the right to make their own mistakes, and learn from them, without my interference, judgement, or assistance! The key to my serenity is acceptance. But "acceptance" does not mean that I have to like it, condone it, or even ignore it. What it does mean is I am powerless to do anything about it... and I have to accept that fact.
Nor does it mean that I have to accept "unacceptable behavior." Today I have choices. I no longer have to accept abuse in any form. I can choose to walk away, even if it means stepping out into the unknown. I no longer have to fear "change" or the unknown. I can merely accept it as part of the journey.
I spent years trying to change things in my life over which I was powerless, but did not know it. I threatened, scolded, manipulated, coerced, pleaded, begged, pouted, bribed and generally tried everything I could to make the situation better -- only watch as things always got progressively worse.
I spent so much time trying to change the things I could not change, it never once occurred to me to simply accept them as they were.
Now when things in my life are not going the way I planned them, or downright bad things happen, I can remind myself that whatever is going on is not happening by accident. There's a reason for it and it is not always meant for me to know what that reason is.
That change in attitude has been the key to happiness for me. I know I am not the only who has found that serenity."

Every now and then, I need to read this again. Slowly.  And then again.

 I need to accept the reality of my life, THIS LIFE that I have been blessed with, and not waste so much time imagining  the life I could have.
It's so easy to peruse all the real estate listings of all the places I would like to live; country farms, camps on pristine lakes, cottages in  little coastal villages.
And I suppose they aren't impossible.
But that's not the point.
This is where I live, and this is my reality.   Life is too short to waste too much of it on what might be.

It's easy, too, to think that we don't need to change anything about ourselves.  I think though, as long as we're alive, we are works in progress, and we can make conscious decisions to be better, smarter, kinder, bigger.

"What I want is what I've not got, what I need is all around me"........Dave Matthews. 

     

Sunshine and a strange giveaway.

We did not get a "blizzard", not by any standards.  Just an old fashion snow storm, and about 10" of snow.
So I had no trouble getting to the studio this morning, and TA DA, my headache is better.....storm has passed, skies are clear.
I am getting the picture.
IMPENDING Storm=low pressure system= screaming headache.

NOW, if that were you, and throughout the spring and summer, you found that your head was on the mend, and then winter came around again, and you went through the same old scenario, WHAT would YOU do????

 The outside cats were loving the blue skies, and beautiful sunshine, kind of like me.

Roy and I took a nice walk, he loves the sun, too.
Down the street, someone else was trying to get some sunshine.

Just not too MUCH sun.

I had a nice morning at the studio, listened to some old CDs, wove on a rug.
Did some cat watching.

And some bird watching.
(We need to wash some windows around here !!!)

 

 

Thank goodness all the "old crows" were feasting next door.

Then I had company.   I thought they were customers, this very nice couple who stopped by.  But no.
They came to see if I would take some stuff off their hands.  Seems the lady's mother passed away and left her with some rug hooking paraphernalia.
And since weaving and hooking seem (to some) to be connected, somehow.......they decided to try me.
Now I just told you about my extensive rug hooking "past life".
I guess they weren't that far off the mark, were they?

So here is what they brought.

I think this lap frame was hand made, but it is so cool.

 There is a rug in progress on it, the pattern is Pearl McGown.

 The previous rug hooker did an incredible job.  The hooking is shaded, and fine.  I would say it is a a #4 or less.

 There is storage room underneath.

The top tips forward and back, and I imagine you can tighten it so it stays where you want it.

 There is a fine hook, and some wool from Dorr Mill.

 There are two small suitcases full of wool, pieces, and already cut.

 There is a three ring binder full of Rug Hooker Magazines.  Old ones.

 And all these pieces of brown paper, they have specific colors of cut wool in them.
Ready to hook.

 

 Like this.

When I first saw the stuff, a little voice in my head said, "You can sell this stuff on Ebay."
Another little voice (yes, there is more than one) said: " You CAN'T be serious."


Because I don't hook anymore.  There isn't enough time in the day.
And I weave.
And when I don't weave, I knit.  For FUN.
So there is NO TIME for rug hooking.
Which brings me to the giveaway.
A spontaneous, my headache is better today, glad to be alive, grateful for all of it, ready to move on.............GIVEAWAY.
So please, if you are a rug hooker, and you will USE this stuff, tell me about it in the comments.
I will draw a name, and all you will have to pay is shipping from 12839 to you.
Drawing on Thursday Feb 14th, Valentine's day!


And I will say,  "Happy Hooking". That's another HH, but one that's definitely more fun.

Saving the world, one plastic bag at a time.

In a blog post a few years back, I talked about my mentor, Chris Gustin.  She has been a weaver for 40 ish years, and she owns Homestead Weaving Studio in Columbus, Indiana.

Did I tell you how I met her??


 In the beginning, I took a 6 week basic weaving course, one night a week. It got me started, but it left a lot to the imagination.  I bought a second hand loom, and went for it, even though I didn't know much.  Unfortunately, there was no one locally who could help me.

I found Chris online.   I know you won't believe that my "shy self" called her, but I did.  I was desperate to get Crazy as a Loom off the ground, and I knew enough to know that I was clueless.
I even ordered a blue jean rug from her, just so I could see what mine should look like.  It is still on my bathroom floor.

From the very beginning, Chris shared her knowledge with me, and her love for weaving, in a generous and totally unselfish way.  She jokes now that she helped to create her own competition, but she is proud of what I've done, and has never, ever been anything but supportive.
 I will always be grateful to her for that, and to this day, when people ask me for help and advice, I give it freely, passing on the gift that was given to me.  Paying it forward.


Thank you, Chris, for everything, but most of all thank you for your continuing friendship since that first phone call.

Just recently, Chris has taken her generosity a step further, which is why I love her.

Chris has always campaigned against plastic bags, and has been weaving them into beautiful rugs for a long time.  She has taken it a step further now, helping to reduce the impact of plastic bags on the wildlife in KENYA.

Yes, I said KENYA.

This is Chris with her newest weaving student.
 James Nampushi, a Maasai warrior from a small village in Kenya.
 

Read her story HERE:  http://www.homesteadweaver.com/kenya_weaving_project.htm
because she tells it best, and because she has awesome pictures of the whole process.
It is amazing.
She is amazing.
I want you to meet her.

You will never feel the same about recycling your plastic bags.  And you will see how I have been inspired in my passion for Crazy as a Loom.

Let's talk about happy times

Back before I was a weaver, I was a hooker.
A rug hooker.
You know what I meant.
I was INTO it.
Hard to believe, right?
I was so into it, that I made a LOT of rugs.
Dyed my own wool, cut my own strips, drew my own patterns, for the most part.

 This is one of my favorites. I made it for my youngest, Morgan.  Every picture means something to her.  And there's my hand, hooking, on the right.

When she was about 5, she had an outfit, with the heels and all, see it in purple?
And she loved to lie on the deck in the sun.
And there she is with her sisters in front of Stonehenge.

This one was from a picture I saw in a magazine.  With some ad libs.  This picture was taken when the rug was on display at the Round Barn in Vermont.  I was a member of the guild over there at the time.
Seems like another lifetime.

I am only showing you pictures of the ones I liked.  There were more.  I was a busy girl.
All this and two jobs.
I look back and call it insanity.


 For awhile, I was also into making "dummy boards".
This is a Santa dummy board I made, and sold.

This is one of the first ones I ever made, and I did it because it matched the wallpaper boarder I had up in my living room.....if you look closely, you can see Miss Liberty's skirt waltzing around the room.

My patriotic period, I guess.

This was my first "real" big project.   I sold it to the lady on the right, Patti Yoder.  She died several years ago, but in her lifetime, she was a rug hooker extraordinaire, and several of her rugs are featured in the Rug Hooking yearly books.
The lady behind the rug was Jean Evans, the sweetest lady and someone who encouraged my rug hooking talents in her little studio.
That's me, with longer hair, and a butt ugly sweater that I wore ALL the time.  I must have liked it.

 

 Here's a close up, but don't look too close.  It was taken in two shots, cut and taped together.........give me a break though, it was taken with FILM.
You remember that, right?

This next one was copied from a greeting card, that I still have by the way.  I loved it, so I hooked a rug just like it.
My favorite part is the shadow of the person holding the kite.

This rug, the pineapple rug, was made from an age old pattern.
The rug resides under my coffee table, still.
It has been through several dogs, and though it is a bit faded, it has held up incredibly well.

The old pot belly stove was in my barn at my house in the country.

I drew the sunflower, and I call this my Van Gogh period, tongue in cheek.

I had an old book of antiques, and in it there was this picture of an old weather vane.  I was quite taken with it, so I dyed some wool, and here it is.
It is the one rug I regretted selling when it was gone.

I was such an avid hooker.........ooh, that sounds funny, doesn't it?   that I ended up with
serious carpal tunnel problems both wrists.
So I had surgery on them both, and reconsidered my obsession with it.
It wasn't long after that when I learned to weave, and you know how THAT turned out.
Right?

I love that saying that I saw on another blog, and put on my sidebar. 


"You will never untangle the circumstances that brought you to this moment."

The only thing you can do, is occasionally drag out the photos, and ponder it all.
But today, this day, is all we really have. 
Everything in this post, is a part of who I am today, but none of it belongs to me anymore.
It only lives on in photographs.

Last night, I dreamt that I went to see a loom.  It was a marvelous loom, and really large.  I sat down to try it out, and was amazed to find that every time I stepped on a treadle, and threw the shuttle, I created this lovely music.  At first, I wasn't sure where it came from, but when I stopped weaving, the music stopped, and when I started up again, the music continued and got louder and more beautiful.

I guess that says it all, pretty much, don't you?   

 

YES.

When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is assess the state of my head.  I have actually been doing this for some time, not because I want to, but because it is necessary in deciding what I do next to get myself moving.
Can I just say that some days are better than others?
What I wish I didn't have to say is that I never, ever wake up with a ZERO.
Never.
Ever.
I hope for a 2, or a 3, or even a 4.
After that, it gets touchy.
Some friends have asked why I don't stay in bed on those 8-9 days.
And the straight answer is that it will stay that way if I don't get up.  If I do get up, get in the shower, get moving, have some tea, take some Motrin, put some heat on my neck, there is the hope that I can get it down to something more manageable.
That's the reality.

I love that you appreciate my positive attitude, and my stubborn resistance to this saga that has become my life.  Your encouragement always means so much.
But I have to keep it real.  I couldn't lie to you.  You've all become like old friends, moved away maybe, but friends still.
The truth is, some mornings, I sit and drink my tea, and I cry. Like now.

Not out loud, just lots of tears.
It's the only time that I could write about it, in the middle of it.

The pain wears me down after a while, and all the things I love about my life seem not so important.
All the things I want to do in my life seem expendable.
For just a while, the pain wins, and nothing else matters.
I give up to it. I surrender.  I'm done like toast. 

The advice I get is call the doctor.  And yes, I will call him.  And he will say ONE of TWO things.
(I was a nurse for too long)
ONE:  it is too soon, you are still healing. (Translation: this is the  reality of a Chiari patient, the headaches and all of it, forever, as it is well documented that decompression only stops the progression of the problem, it does not make it 100% better)
TWO: let's do an MRI (Translation:  we'll find that it is really not fixed after all, and we'll schedule surgery #2)

You see my dilemma, right?
I don't want to hear either of those things, though I am sure at some point I will.  Just not today.

I can get through today.

And call it genetics, call it chance, but somehow or other, I am possessed with this determination, this hard headed, pig headed, I can do it attitude.  And every day, I call upon it to pick me up, and move me forward, to make me believe that I will be OK, to make me believe that indeed I CAN do it.
I can.
I can.
I can.
I will.

This day

Monday.  February.
It's only four weeks long, and that means spring is closer than ever.

Roy and I walked 3 miles this morning, and even though it was only 23 degrees, by the time I got home, I was sweating in my down coat.
Still, I'd rather be sweating than shivering.

I have decided to weave "container rugs" for February.  They are my faves, and the cotton rug shelves do need to be plumped up a bit.

Here's my first one.

  

 And here's my second.

I have to 'stay in the day'.
I can't worry about tomorow, or next month, or next year.
It doesn't work for me at all.
Today?  I can do today.  I know for sure that I can handle today.
So today is where I want to be.
 On the manageable page.

Touchdown

I will admit it, I have been a slug lately.  I have opted not to walk Roy on several occasions, not because I was lazy, but because it is SO cold.

This morning, I kicked myself in the butt, and out the door we went.  It was 23 degrees, but I had my LLBean down coat on, and I was pretty toasty.   It has a hood, and keeps my neck warm, and that is realistically the most important thing for me.

 At least the bike path was passable, sometimes it is so deep with snow, that we can't walk it.

I know it's Super Bowl Sunday, and to be frank, I could care less.  The commercials are entertaining, but otherwise I find it pretty boring.  I am not a football fan, and never have been.

So.............my knitting needles are flying.

And I want to thank KATE (Chronicles of a Country Girl) for her mention of a book, The Thirteenth Tale.   I was impressed when she said it was the best book she'd ever read, so when I was in the library, I looked for it.  And they had it!!!  
I am half way through it, and having trouble putting it down.
Knit?  Read?  Knit? Read?
Who needs football???

 And I have this lovely 750 yd skein of hand dyed fingering yarn from the Vermont Yarn Co. that I am itching to knit up.
So there you have it.

I'll have my own entertainment.  Thanks to football, but no thanks.
It can just be background noise, and that's fine with me.

Tales of a cold neck

Anybody else having trouble with Blogger?  I can't for the life of me upload pictures.

So I uploaded them to Picasa, and then copied and pasted them here.  I hope they show up.

I will tell you I have not had a good week.......the low pressure systems that brought the snow, and then the rain, have about done me in.  

I feel like I just stepped back 2 months in my recovery.

So once again, it was me coming home after just a few hours.  It seems to be my new routine.   I guess I should be used to it by now.
I can tell you this:  if if the future I find that the northeast in winter contributes to this headache, I will be blogging from some place warm and dry.  I won't really care where.

I have managed to weave a couple of rugs this week, a little at a time.

They are my faves, "container rugs".  Sometimes the combinations of fabric in any given container just work.

I have to be satisfied with what I can do, not what I want to do.
I'm a work in progress.
STILL.

If you get my newsletter, you know that I just sent one out, with some Solmate rugs made from wool.
We used to make them all the time, but Solmate discontinued their wool sock line, and we just had a couple of bags stashed, that L decided she needed to weave up.

They were discounted in my newsletter, and they were gone in MINUTES.  I am not kidding.

And then I got a lot of emails from people who said "do you have any left?", and I had to disappoint them.
So I am going to give my blogger friends a heads up, on my next sale, which will appear shortly......you know, when I am inspired to do another newsletter.

First off, it's for those of you who are addicted to making potholders.
These are bags of small loops, made from LITTLE SOCKS.  They fit smaller potholder looms, OR if you chain two together, you can use them on the HIP TO BE SQUARE loom.
You can also chain them together and weave rugs with them.
The best part about them:  they are BRIGHT colors, with a lot of YELLOW, LIME GREEN, and ORANGE.

I have FORTY ONE bags of these at present.
They are $12.95 per bag while they last.

I am not really into using my blog as a place to sell product, but I just wanted to give YOU GUYS first dibs.  Because you all read my blog, and YOU ROCK.

So now, I am in for the night, keeping heat on my neck......it feels SO good.
Starting my next knitting project.
They just make me happy.






Tell me you could resist these???
NOT.