My real age.

I apologize. These photos are not in order, and no matter how hard I try to concentrate on putting them in order,I just can't seem to get it done.
It has been a busy day. These are the rugs we finished today, and Miss Puss has decided that they make a perfect place for her next nap.
She looks entitled, doesn't she?

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that I had purchased 6 bales of selvedge, about 1000 lbs each. Well today, Tammy and I proceeded to take one apart. And this is the mess we made.


This pile of threads is the stuff we can't use.

Looks pretty overwhelming, doesn't it?
And yes, I ususally have a pair of scissors in my pants pocket.

This was earlier in the day. It's called "work stoppage". Miss Puss is in charge of breaks, apparently.
And Miss Puss knows how to take a break. We could all learn a little about relaxing from her.
And from the looks of her, she knows what she is doing.
Someone appears to be in training.
I treated myself this week. I had been buying birthday presents all month , and liked the Vera Bradley bags, so this one is mine.
This was the work of the morning.

And this is the view from underneath the 7 ft Toika loom. Why, you ask, was I under the loom?
Well, unfortunately, it is the only way to adjust the lamms and treadles. And that is what I had to do.
This is when you find out how old you "really" are.
And when I left the studio, after a long, hot day, this is where I left Miss Puss.

After dinner, I went for a ride on my bicula. My friend, Alice, and I rode the bike trails on both sides of the river, and then all over town.
I am very bad, and don't wear a helmet. Alice and I agree that we don't go that fast, we usually ride on the sidewalks when we can, and we like the breeze blowing through our hair.
So don't preach to me. This is when I feel the age I WANT to be.
Yeah. That's what I'm talking about.
It was very hot, and we got very tired, so.................
we went to Cooper's Cave for ice cream, but don't tell my husband, OK?

It wasn't me.

Nice looking salad, Morgan.

More party pictures. But these are not my haphazard attempts to get good shots. Nope. These are the work of a pro. I can't take any credit.
If you want to see more of his talents, go to www.joeelariophotography.com
He has some wedding pictures to die for.
If I had an event to photograph, he would be my first choice. He is so good at what he does, he must love it.
I did not have ONE of these. I swear.
She did. The evidence is in her hand.
And hers.
This is my baby. Always will be. It drives her nuts.
And here we are: from the left #1 daughter, #3 daughter, mother, #2 daughter, and me.
From 28years old to 84 years old, I am truly blessed. Does it get any better than this?
Beautiful new deck, lovely evening, nice party.
Great job, Andre'. I wouldn't expect anything less.


Until next time.

Nothing but the truth

(click on any picture to enlarge)
Drudge work.
All this fabric had to be washed.
The washing machine didn't tempt me, because I knew what a tangled mess it would make.
So yesterday afternoon, I spent quite some time, unrolling the wet balls, rinsing them with the hose, and hanging them to dry.
Then I spent the afternoon in the garden, weeding the rock wall. My sunflowers are about 10 ft tall.

And I cleaned the wild grape vine out of my hydrangea bush.

Then we drove an hour to attend a surprise birthday party for my youngest daughter's best friend.
Jo has been like an adopted daughter to me, and I love her very much. She is a sweet, sweet soul who grew up into a beautiful young woman, in spite of less than a stellar start in life.
My whole family loves her.
And here she is, supposedly coming around the back of my daughter's house to see the new deck, and we are all waiting there for her.
"Surprise!"

She wavered between laughing and crying. She kept saying, "I think I'm gonna' pass out."

And she saw her friend from college who had driven up from the city, and then she really did cry.
But all was well.
She loved the party! It was all for her, and she was very touched.
Everyone had a great time.

That is the Vera Bradley purse I bought for her, and she liked my choice of colors, which is amazing!
This is my daughter's friend, Joe, who is a photographer. If you saw the pics in a previous post
of my three daughters, you saw some of his work. As you can see by his camera, he is a serious photographer. But it is more than the equipment.......he has a talent that I can't even comprehend. Go to his web site if you want to see more. He is truly awesome.
And here they are..my three girls....hope you don't get sick of seeing them. Of course, I never do.

Today was a crazy, wild day with my husband's two daughters and all the kids here for more pool adventures, and his spaghetti and meatballs.
I am totally exhausted, and looking forward to a QUIET, KID FREE week.
Sorry, but that's the truth.
I have a lot to do this week, starting with a weaving student tomorrow, and lots of fabric prep for a rug order.
Until next time.

Very interesting.

Company is gone. Pool is closed.
Day is done.

Dear Lord in Heaven.
That is what I was saying to myself this afternoon, after I met my daughter halfway, to drop off my grandkids.
Relief.
Whew.
Quiet. Why is it that you don't appreciate it, until you don't have it?

Anyway, I did my grandmotherly duty this week, and now I am ready for a rest....not a rest from doing anything, just a rest from being responsible for other little human beings.
You know I love them. Incredibly. I am their Mimi, and I treasure it.
But some days I just feel like I've been there, done that.

I actually did it for longer than most people. I was 21 when I had my first daughter, and 27 when I had my second daughter, and 34 when I had my third daughter. So from the time of that first amazing event, to the time my third daughter walked out the door to go to college was 31 years.
And no, I didn't plan it that way. That's just the way it happened.
Kids at home, for 31 years.
No wonder I am tired.

This is an incredible time for me. I don't have to go to work. I can't believe that. I started work the day after I graduated from high school. No late night parties for me, I had to be at the hospital at 7am, for my first day as a nurse's aide. Then college, then work, then more college.
As a nurse, I worked shift work. I hated nights, and did as little of them as humanly possible. I worked mostly evenings, and days.
Now I don't have to get up early. I don't have to come out at midnight to a cold car and a dark ride home.
I am a free agent.
Of course, I still get up at the crack of dawn. But it is different now. I get up because I like to. I want a hot cuppa tea, a sunny window to sit in while I read my email.
And because I have things to do, and I want to do them.
What a concept, eh?
And I can choose, to be busy, or slow down.
When I bought the house that is now my studio, 5 years ago, I was determined to build up my weaving business so that it could be my "retirement gig". I knew I would never really "retire", so to speak. I couldn't envision myself watching TV, or shopping, or otherwise amusing myself with things like that. I knew I wanted to weave rugs.
So since then, I have been weaning myself off nursing, and trying to let Crazy as a Loom evolve, and find its own space in the universe. I haven't allowed myself much other diversion. I was focused.
But this year was the year that it was all supposed to come together. And it has .........I quit nursing, and Crazy as a Loom HAS risen to its comfort level. It has found its' niche. I like what it has grown into, and I love what I am doing.
But balance has always been the demon for me. So this year, I promised myself that I would do some other things that had been on my mind.
So I did.
I built the labyrinth, planted the garden around it, worked on clearing the back pasture and the rest of the property. Creating a heaven/haven of sorts that I have always wanted. Weaving stuff just for fun, like dish towels. Riding my "bicula". Kayaking on the Hudson.
I have not conquered the balance issue. No. I wouldn't say that. But I am doing so much better.
Sometimes I feel like I am coming full circle. I remember being a gangly, freckled kid lying in the tall grass, watching the clouds go by, riding my horse in the woods and all over town, reading and reading and reading. I remember how centered she felt, before life intervened.
I think I am going back there.
Interesting stuff.

I got nothing.

Except a box of orzo, which is the beginning of the best Rice Pilaf you've ever had.
My husband actually asks for this.
And it is so easy, I feel guilty taking credit for it.
But just in case, you like Rice Pilaf, and you want some kudos without doing much of anything, here goes.
You put one stick of butter in a pan, and melt it. If you are on a diet, you could cut this in half, but it won't be as good.
You put in 1 cup of orzo, and you stir this over medium heat til the orzo is brown.
You then add 4 cups of water and 3 chicken bouillon cubes.
Then you add 1 cup of Uncle Ben's original rice.
You bring all this to a boil, cover, turn it down and simmer it on low for 20 min, or until the liquid is gone.


Then all you have to do is eat, and soak up the applause.
This recipe makes quite a potful, so I use the leftovers with lots of fresh veggies another day.
This is how uneventful my life is today (a good thing) that I give you a recipe for Rice Pilaf.
But honest, you will love it.
I was busy today, I was weaving placemats, and finished four sets of four each. Now to tie the fringe. I swear sometimes it takes longer to tie the fringe than it does to weave them.
When I got home, Ava was there, while my daughter was at the dentist. She was watching cartoons with my mother, or my mother was watching them with her. Not sure which.

And that's all I got.
We are on our way to the Wood Theater tonight to see "Always, Patsy Cline". I wish I could take pictures, but I doubt that it is allowed. So I will just have to take good notes.
Until next time,
Hilary

Riding in a fast car

Today I took care of my two grandchildren, Logan and Ava. We spent the morning at the studio, but it was hot, and I decided it was time we did something a little more kid oriented. They were up for it.


So I took them to ride the Go Karts, something I have been promising to do for awhile. Logan took to it like an old pro. Ava was too little, so Mimi had to drive a double seater, so she could go, too.
Those kids drive like maniacs. Logan passed me twice.



I have never driven one before, and I have to say, it wasn't my favorite pastime.


Then we played mini golf. Here is Ava perfecting her swing. She would hit the ball, and if it didn't land where she thought it should, she picked it up, and put it down in a better spot. She thoroughly enjoyed herself, and when we were done, she said, "I didn't know I was so good at that." And she laughed.
What a ticket she is.

I am still trying to accept things as they are.
Boundaries. I never imagined that I would be this old, and still have to be reminding myself where my boundaries are. But I do.
I was a single mother for a long time. My kids were my reason for keeping on, for not giving up or giving in. All the while they were growing up, I was getting to know who they were, I hoped that they would learn from my mistakes, and be stronger, smarter, better, than their mother.
Now they are adults, and every now and then, I wonder. To myself.
Who are you?
Does every mother feel this way? Sometimes I think I am surprised by characteristics inherited from their father, that I had forgotten about, having divorced him so long ago. Blindsided. Sometimes, I must admit, that I say to myself, "this isn't fair".
Then I sit quietly, something I honestly don't do enough of, and it comes to me.
This is MY life. I have raised my children. I love them more than the air I breathe, but they are not mine anymore. Loving them is letting them go, even if at times, I am not impressed with their choices, and even if I don't understand who the hell they are.
I do understand, finally, after years of not knowing, who I am. And that is a gift that I do not take lightly.
Until next time.
Hilary

Gratitude,again.

Sharon, over at In Stitches, nominated me for the Bella Sinclair award.


The text with it goes,"This award was designed by Ces for her friend Bella. Ces wrote:- I designed this award to celebrate art in the blogs and to honour the value of friendship, sisterhood, sharing and caring. It is to be awarded to the gifted, accomplished, eloquent and talented blogger, whose friendship and influence inspire us to do our best. That I named it after Bella Sinclair is because she epitomizes all of these things."

Wow. Thanks, Sharon. I am not entirely sure I deserve this....but it is nice that you thought of me, and I really appreciate the positive energy that I am sure comes with it.
I would like to pass this on to Chris at Homestead Weaver who has been my inspiration from the first rag rug I ever took off the loom.
And to Kate over at Chronicles of a Country Girl who has inspired me with her authentic "voice", and her incredible photos.
There were no directions with this award, so I just picked two.

Candy, over at Country Life and All the Fixings had a link on her recent post to the most
touching story I have ever read.
I hope you will all go over and enjoy it. Have tissues. It is an inspiration.
I am watching my grandchildren tomorrow, and Friday, too. And there are lots of birthdays this week, and company coming.
In between, I am weaving some placemats, and cutting up some jeans.
Not much going on in my life.
But whenever I think that my life is boring, I think back to years ago, when there was plenty of drama and trauma, and I sigh.
And I am grateful.

Organizational skills

I hate to admit it, but my husband may be on to something.
I think I have a problem.
I really may not live long enough to weave all this fabric.
This was the attic over the older part of the house. As you can see, it is quite the mess.


So yesterday, Tammy and I spent some time trying to organize it.
And it was hot up there. I bought some of those plastic shelves from Home Depot, and they were a huge help.



Some of the fabric is loose, or rolled into balls, and so that fabric is in the totes.



This is a very old and original window, circa 1790.


We worked on it again today, and finished it up. I think we did a darn good job.
Now if this were all the fabric I had, it might not be bad. But it is only about 1/3 of it. And that doesn't count the socks, and the selvedge. Oh, dear.
Do you think I have an addiction of sorts?? Fabric, fabric, fabric. Weft.
Tammy counseled me today, she told me that I shouldn't buy one bit of fabric to weave rugs with, until I have used all this up.
That's pretty funny.
No, but seriously, I am going to try not to buy any more.
Moderation in all things, right.
Balance.
Do you think it is too late to work on myself this way? Or should I just throw in the towel, and accept that this is just who I am.
My father, was a junk dealer. I grew up with a barn full of antiques attached to the house. He scoured the countryside for them, and he couldn't stop.
All my life, I have been asked, "Aren't you Morty Cooper's daughter?"
Well, I guess it is obvious that I am.
Antiques or fabric, does it really matter?