Crazy as a Loom

Tuesday, December 27, 2016


I am reflective of late.
Maybe it's the headache.
Or it's winter.

I did actually decorate a bit for the holidays.

I enjoy my house.  I love it, to be sure.
I  just wish I could share it with my family, but they live a ways away, and of course, they are all busy.

I saw them all at Christmas, we always get together at one of their houses, about an hour away.

But to get them all here in Kingsbury  at the same time, well, that's not easy.
Work, sports, get the idea.
It makes me sad sometimes.   I try not to let it, but it does.
Time plods on, and what was is no more.
People change, children grow up, nothing stays the same for long.
Change is inevitable.
Sometimes it sucks, to be blunt.

This is my morning view, sipping my coffee, cats and dog sleeping around me, stove keeping the living room toasty.

I do a lot of thinking this time of day.  It's quiet, and I contemplate my life, and think about the changes that I have experienced.  Some good, oh yes.
Some not so good.
And a lot of changes were just to be expected.  There was no avoiding them, they happen to everyone.

I tried to get my two oldest grand daughters to come up on Christmas break.
But that's not happening either.
They are booked solid.....busy.
And to be honest, Mimi might not be as interesting to them, as she once was.

It brings to mind other times, when they loved to come stay with me.   I treasure those times.

They didn't stay that little for long, but it was an amazing time.

Now they are young ladies, just 7 years later.

Back then, I was happy to be the "paparazzi", just following them around on their adventures.
What I wouldn't give to do it all over again.

Now I see them on holidays.
And they text me.
But it isn't the same.
It's different with your own children.  They were stuck with you until graduation.

But with grandkids, you are definitely less important to them as they get older.
And to be honest, it's nothing abnormal.  They are just finding their own way.
It's reality.

Did I mention that reality sucks sometimes????

I don't want you  to think that I live a miserable life.
I don't.
I am happy in my little corner of the world.

I amuse myself so many ways.....making a spinach quiche for example.

Weaving a cotton "translucent windows" scarf/neck wrap.

I am never bored, I am always engaged in some pursuit that makes me feel sustained.

Maybe occasional sadness at the life gone by is a natural thing.   We get older, and there is a lot more lost than our youth.
Friends, family, gone from us.   Children grown up, with families of their own.
Priorities shifted, goals reached, walking a different path than one we've ever known.

In all my ponderings, and even in my dreams, I have not for sure found the answer to it all.
But I think...............I is this.
You just need to live the best life you can live, every day.  You have to find your sweet spot.  You have to find your own happiness.

And above all, you have to be grateful.

And I am.

Friday, December 23, 2016

It's winter.

Why do I keep singing this song??

Oh the weather outside is frightful.

Yes, we are having a real winter this year, it seems.  But I have found that the words of my late mother reverberate.
She said, "You won't mind winter so much when you don't have to go out in it every day",
and she's right.

Because it's very cozy inside.
I have everything I need.

Towels, towels, towels.

I am always busy....there is always something to do.

I'm stuck on clam shells.

Tis the season......good to keep this perspective.

 Traditional Greek Honey cookies......

and lentil soup.

All in all........ winter can be good.   It's just winter, after all.

 Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

It's a crazy world.

Early morning in Kingsbury.

Tiny little hamlet in northeast New York.

We actually have street lights, which I love.  They are not in front of my house, but I can see them in a couple of directions from my window.
Lately, at night, we often see
 flashing red lights, as the local sheriff enforces the 40 mph speed limit down Rte 4.  We applaud.

I am in my pajamas, and it is barely light out.  I went to bed early with a headache, and feeling exhausted.  I think I slept 9 hours, and apparently that is what I needed.
It is good to listen to your body, especially as you get older.  That's my thinking.

Now I'm eating a salt bagel, with a cuppa tea.  The dog has been out, the cats have been fed, the pellet stove is warming the room.   I plan on relaxing here for another hour or so, reading, catching up with emails.  This is my morning routine, and I love it.

All those years of being out the door at 6:15, to be at work, ready to start at 7:00am.........done.
Who knew retirement could be so lovely.
I look back, and remember that it felt normal, to be on the road in the dark, to hear the gates clanking behind me as I checked into a maximum security prison, day after day, to set up the clinic for inmates  who arrived every few minutes for my entire shift.  Then there were emergencies, fights, stabbings, cardiac issues, sick call, doctor's appointments, testing, lab and so much more.  Patients brought in sometimes in handcuffs, and sometimes leg chains.  Correction officers standing behind you at every turn.  For twenty years.

It felt NORMAL.

Why am I telling you this??  Because it occurred to me, that sometimes the most horrific things are made normal
Not right.  Oh, never.   Never right.
But in our perception, normal events.
And I am not telling you that it is necessarily a good thing.  It's not.

After I left the prison system, it took months before I computed that it was not my life anymore.  I had to readjust to the world outside of that freakish normal.  It was probably not that much different than a criminal who is released.

I watch the news, and I think.  How many people are fooled, that THIS is normal?  Or is this our NEW normal, now??
And then I go do something creative, because I can't absorb any more of it.

My solace is being able to stay home, weave, bake, just be myself.

This was a winner.  Rosemary parmesan bread.  And simple.  And delicious.......I could have eaten the whole loaf.

We had it with some ribolitta, which is synonymous with clean out the fridge soup.

And after two days of fighting with this warp, 50 yards of golden glow is on the AVL, and restocking towels is the order of the day.

My loom should be named "Serenity", cause that's what I find when I weave there.

My conclusion is:   this new normal we are about to experience is not normal.   It isn't, it can't be, it won't be no matter what anyone tries to tell us.
Prison wasn't normal, even after 20 years, it was never, ever normal.

Make your own normal, your safe place, your life the way you know it should be.  That's the only way for me.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

A bit more

At the top of the stairs, I hung a spinning wheel, that I found in the barn, when I bought the house.

The front bedroom is on the road side of the house, and the wallpaper is the closest one I could find to replicate the paper that was falling off.

No beds in here, this is the "rug room", and home to my all time fave rug loom, the Union Custom.

It's a bit of a mess.  We do a lot of work in here.  Well, mostly Lois does.

I wove 7 rugs here this past week, one a day.

The "blue" room is the guest room.

This dressing table was here in the house when I came.

The door over the bed used to be the back door out of the kitchen to the old back porch.
I loved the shabby chic look of it.  The other side is just white.

Ever since Miss Puss was diagnosed with diabetes, she has mellowed.  You never would have seen her on the couch with Roy.  But now, it's not a big deal apparently.

I try not to think about how much her insulin and syringes cost me, but honestly, when I see her like this next to me every evening, so relaxed and happy, I know that it's money well spent.
My sweet girl.

I would have shown you the other bedrooms, but to be honest, they could use some straightening up.

Friday, November 25, 2016

My world.

With the state of the nation, and the upheaval in the world,  I have to admit to loving my home more than ever.
I have created, over the years since I bought this old house, a place that I love beyond measure.

This morning,  with the early light  making the house glow, I wandered around a bit, taking pictures.

My new sewing machine, a purchase I made after weaving off 112 yards of black warp.
This was my gift to myself.

Sirius radio in the corner, playing my fave channel, #66, Watercolors, a jazz channel.

My sewing room, a place to play.

My AVL,  the loom I love the best.

My view, first thing.

My late Aunt Stell's old hall tree.

My study in black and white, the Schacht in the foreground.

 There is no place I would rather be than right here.
I can't believe that just a couple of years ago, I had 17 looms.

Now I realize, with only FOUR looms, that I am happier with less.  I am more focused, and less stressed.
It's a tough lesson to learn, that it's not all about the money, that it can't be, if you really want to be fulfilled with what you do.

  Giza cotton warp, reeled silk weft.

Not sure what it will be....I might make some clothing out of it.

Giza cotton and hand dyed tencel baby wrap, on its way to London soon.

 It's been rainy and gray here in northeast New York,  but it's all good here at Crazy as a Loom.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

My day

Thank you for all the comments on my last post.  I know it's a difficult  subject.  I appreciate all your opinions, and I respect them.
I don't usually do politics on my blog, and won't do it often.  This seemed to be an exception, something I needed to get off my chest, and then get back to my life.

Let's hope for the best, and pray that our country can come together somehow.

I have had a hand woven rag stair runner on my stairs for about 10 years.  Not only was it getting a little ratty, but it was slipping and stretching and sliding, and I decided it was dangerous for us old folks.
So here's the new one,  the black rods and finials haven't gone back on yet, but it's soft on the feet, and quiet.
I like it.

I bought this quilt top below from a lady who posted it on FB.....for $20.
It was hand stitched by her grandmother.

It is without perfect condition.
I'm going to back it, and quilt it.
I don't understand selling it, not at all.  I wish I had something like this from MY grandmother, but I 
guess I'll just have to treasure this one.

This is the view out my kitchen window, and the house next door.  No one lives there, the lady who did is in the nursing home.
Every time I look over there, I think of her having to leave the home she spent probably the majority of her life in.

 Today is the first day of my guild's show.  I was there at 8am, setting up.

I got my möbius shawls all settled on my clothes rack, only to find a while later that the powers that be had moved them all over the room, and confiscated my rack.

 Then while I was unwrapping Mrs. Olsen (my dress form lady), who is modeling my cotton/bamboo  
baby wrap, a lady walking by made a loud, derogatory "ewwwwww".   I turned to her, and she said, ""I hate that baby."

Speechless.  That's what I was.

Time to go home, no matter what the clock says.

Hello, Stella,  I'm glad to meet you.
(Stella Artois, for those of you who don't's very good)

Sometimes, I just want to stay home, make soup, bread, weave, and enjoy the quiet.


Welcome to my world.

Because every thread counts

Because every thread counts