A day in the studio.

I love morning glories.

My next towel warp.   I had to wait for this gold, it was on back order for weeks.

Lois and I were upstairs today, finishing a big rug.
Sydney was guarding the stairs.

Roy was doing quality control of fabric.

With their help, we managed to finish this darling 5' x 7' rug in pastels.

This is baby Helen's new rug.

We finished just in time for lunch, my homemade tomato parmesan soup, using up the last of my garden crop.

I've been nursing a slammer for two days.  It started yesterday morning, when I got the visual aura.   It lasted about 20 minutes, then the headache came.
Today it still dogs me.

Honestly, I have no idea how, in retrospect, I did this for years.
Wow.

Day by day

The studio draws some people right to it, like bees to flowers.  
I recently had a weaving "buddy", a college grad spending the summer on Lake George.  She had learned to weave during her stay in Colorado at school, and was jonesing to get back to it.
She was a lovely young woman, and a quick study.

I really enjoyed having her, I only wish she had found me sooner, I would have had her weaving off tons of towels!!!!
But she's off to Iceland now, and then Korea.  She has the wanderlust.
I have no doubt though, that somewhere in her future, is a place where a loom keeps her company on a daily basis.

The garden is done, DONE.  As in neglected, overgrown, and embarrassingly OVER.   I went out and picked the last of the tomatoes, and opened the gate for the "girls".  They acted like I had just let them into Jungleland. 
To them, I am sure it is just that.
And fun.

My towel stash is officially over the 50 mark.  I am getting ready for the Southern Adirondack Fiber Festival, coming up on Sept 26th, and the Hudson Mohawk Weavers Guild Show in November.  So I can't have too many.

I am getting acquainted with naps.  Not sure why.  I have never been a napper, but lately, maybe the heat, or maybe the fact that I am up at SIX A.M. no matter what, but a half hour, forty-five minute nap about mid afternoon, just seems to do the trick.  Who knew?


Today, being Labor Day, Lois and I decided to do a little laboring.
So we put another warp on for möbius shawls.

This one is going to be be SMASHING.
Of course, that's just my opinion.

 We put enough on for four shawls.
Lois tied it all on to the previous warp, and we jiggled it through.

 What a great feeling to know you're ready to weave and you didn't have to do all that threading and sleying.

Again, I am trying to get my inventory up for these two upcoming shows.

But I'm having fun weaving them, so it is not all drudge.

Sometimes life is hard, and always unpredictable.
You never know what you're going to get.

But for me, it's about the simplest of pleasures.
 Dappled sun through the windows on a quiet afternoon.
 Putting a warp on without a hitch.
Making burritos by the batch, to eat and to freeze, for about $1.00 each.

A cuppa decaf on the porch, watching the sun go down.

All the moments of daily life, making a life, being present.

Hold on to those things, hold fast.  They comfort in a way nothing else can.

Hey there.

   A couple of fellow bloggers have talked lately about their infrequent blogging, and why it's that way.
So, interested, I looked back.

Here's my blogging history:

2007- 7 entries
2008- 35  ( getting used to it)
2009- 205 (definitely warmed up)
2010-241  (on a roll)
2011- 328 ( steaming along!)
2012- 260 ( slowing down a bit)
2013-156 ( REALLY slowing down)
2014- 101 ( ouch, being slugginsh)
2015 to date: 55  ( almost full circle)

I know that my head injury and surgeries had some impaction my blogging, along with everything else, and all that started 8/11/11, a date that is etched on my brain somewhere.
But I think it is more than that.
First off, people changed. Blogs serve a purpose, and sometimes that purpose changes as we do.
Then again, maybe we run out of interesting things to say without repeating ourselves.
And too, life gets busy, and we get out of the habit of making time for it.

All of these things are true.   I blog when I want to, when it moves me, and I'm not going to let it get any more complicated than that.



Jinksie is adjusting, though I think it's going to take some time.
She misses Kizzy terribly, I know she does.   She still spends a lot of time in the attic where they used to hide out together, but she is venturing out more.  On this particular morning, she slept on the bench while I wove.

Lois and I finished a blue jean rug order.

And a couple of 4x6 rugs.

And sometimes,  I do a little "night weaving."

Sometimes.

Tough Post

This is one post I wish I wasn't writing.

It's just proof ......further proof......that we never know what's going to happen.

Yesterday Lois and I were having lunch after weaving off the 4x6 rug warp on the Toika, when we noticed Kizzy lying on the living room floor about 8" away from Roy.

This was not a normal scenario.  Kizzy might be in the same room as Roy, but on the other side of the room, watching him for any sign of movement.
L and I both reacted the same way.

I went and picked him up, he kind of leaned back in my arms like a baby.  Lethargic, the only word that fits.
I remembered an ER doc who was teaching a PALS course, who told us not to ever use the word lethargic unless we REALLY meant it.
Lois immediately went to get the cat carrier out of the barn, and I called the vet.  I took him there, where he stayed overnight.
Today, the prognosis was not good.  He had pleural effusion, or in layman's terms, fluid around his lungs, so much that it obscured his heart on X-ray.  They drew labs, and did another X-ray. One kidney had shrunk to almost nothing, and the other was incredibly huge.  His kidney function was off the charts.  The bottom line is that he probably had a tumor in his kidney, that was causing all the other problems.  They highly suggested euthanasia.
They asked me if I wanted to be there.
I did.

 Eight years ago in September, I caught this handsome boy in a havaheart trap in my back yard.

He was about 4 months old.

From the very beginning, he was a prince.  He was gentle, and sweet, and he remained that way always.

He never lost his "feral" characteristics, living in seclusion in the attic most of the day, coming down for food and an occasional "lounging around".

I often said he was the best indicator if someone was coming to the studio.  If he heard a car turn into the driveway, he was gone.

I can't believe he's gone.......too soon, only 8 years old.  But he had a good life, he was much loved, and he loved back.

Lois and I will miss him terribly, but poor Jinksie girl will miss him more.

He was her guy.  And she doesn't know about life not being fair.

Rest easy, Kismet.   I am so glad to have known you.

What???

Two posts in two days????  What the hey?????

Over the weekend, I was up early, as usual, and happened to see a truck out by the end of my driveway.
On the side of it, it said "Balloon Chase".

I ran for my camera, knowing that the balloon was somewhere.

Out the back door I ran, and there it was.

It was just taking off in the field next to me.

It was a beautifully, cool morning.

I wonder if they are smiling because I am in my nightgown??

 

It only took a minute for them to be up and away.

 

I was snapping away.

 

What a nice way to start my day.

Up Up and Away.

Amen.

Summer is flying by, and with this heat wave we are getting, it is ok with me.
Not that it matters how I feel about it, or how any of us feel, it is what it is.

While I am settling into this partial retirement, certainly more retirement than I have ever experienced, I am still busy with this and that.

My woven labels finally got here.  I love them, they get sewn right into the hem, making it very easy.

It may seem like I have gone a little crazy with towels, but I only do a couple of them a day, and then they add up.

And I LOVE my steam press, what a time saver.

Aren't they gorgeous???

Lois has been out picking blackberries.

I made one large one for her, and one little one for DH.

The other two little ones are apples, from the tree in the back yard that apples fall from daily.

 

Sometimes I take a quiet lunch break on the back porch.  Little cottage cheese, some tomatoes out of our garden, some avocado, and some crackers, gluten free  (Mary's Gone Crackers, Sesame)

Life is good.  My headaches are DOABLE.   I love saying that so much.
DOABLE.
Hallefreakinglujah.  It took a long time to be able to say that.

This is Washington County, N.Y.
I love it here.
I'm one lucky girl.

Can we hear an AMEN?

Basics.

After offering my granddaughters several different options, including the beach, they informed me that they wanted to make "donuts".

So that's what we did.

 I was in charge of the actual hot donuts.

Then they drained on brown paper.
Gabby was in charge of glazing.
Ava was in charge of cinnamon sugar.

 They were also taking pictures.

We had fun, and the donuts were delicious.

Sometimes I think we try too hard to please kids, when really what makes them the happiest is having someone they love spend time with them.

Simple, really.

Kizzy my Kizzy.

The summer is flying right by.  I can't say that it makes me sad.
I love autumn. October is my favorite time of year, and all too short.
This heat wears me down.
Yesterday was a long, hot day.  I was tired.

Last night I was in bed by 9:30.   My two granddaughters playing in "the blue room", with instructions to turn the light off at 10pm.

I went right to sleep, I was exhausted.

I awoke to a huge crash, about 4am.
I sat bolt upright, it was just light enough to see that the screen was out of the window, and Kizzy was on the roof.

He must have been sitting on the bottom of my bed.

Now, Kizzy is a wuss.  A big wuss.  He is afraid of everything.
He was a 4 month old feral manx kitten when I caught him and brought him inside, and though he is babied and loved and always safe, he is afraid.  Always.
If someone drives in the driveway, he hears them before anyone else does, and he is gone like a streak upstairs.
He lives in the loft over the old part of the house.  He loves it there.....he and Jinksie have a bed there in front of the south facing window, and there are lots of places to hide out.
He comes downstairs on occasion.  He gets brushed and fed and petted.  He is VERY gentle.
He is TWENTY SIX pounds of sweetness.

But he is skittish to the nth degree.  He is most comfortable around me, and Lois.  If anyone else comes in, he's back to his loft.  He is beginning to get used to Roy, he doesn't run when he sees him anymore, but he keeps an eye on him all the time.  Same with DH.  It will take him months and months to be comfortable enough to hang out in the same room.

So......it's 4am, still pretty dark, and Kizzy is running frantically on the porch roof, yowling at the top of his lungs.  I am on the roof, trying to get him to come to me, trying not to scare him more.  He dashes up to the peak and down the other side.  I am frantic.  DH is inside trying to keep nosy Sydney from coming out the window to investigate.
Kizzy goes all the way to the very edge of the porch roof, crouching down like he is going to try to jump.
My heart is beating in my chest so loud.  I sit down on the roof, and talk to him......tell him it's ok...I don't try to catch him.  I just talk and say his name over and over, in a soft voice.
He takes a few steps towards me.  Finally I can see that he has changed his mind about jumping, now he just wants to go back in.

He puts his front paws up on a window, a different window, at least he knows he wants to go in there.
He comes close, but not close enough to grab.  He goes to the next window.
I wait patiently, thinking that maybe if he goes around on the roof, he will come to the window that is open, the one we came out of.
And eventually, after what seemed like forever, he did exactly that. 
He put his paws up on the sill, sniffed, and jumped back in.

I was so pumped up, I knew I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs and decided to just chill on the couch.  Ten minutes later, who should jump up there with me, even with Roy in the room, in the chair.
Yup, Kizzy.  He rubbed up against me, and purred.  He looked up at me, and I swear, if he could talk, he would have said,
"Wow, what the ***** was up with THAT?"

Kizzy bug.