Change is merely a decision that has work attached to it. Right now, I am drowning in the work piece of change and I’m tired. Where is my Fairy Godmother and her wand? I wish she would come and make all this work go away and my house beautiful as I see it in my dreams.
We all make goals and plans. Sometimes we stumble along them, sometimes we run with unbridled enthusiasm, and sometimes the path we undertook morphs into something different. Sometimes imagined success has varying colors and patterns that we find unexpected and so we are forced to choose a different route or morph ourselves to fit , enabling ourselves to remain in our chosen direction. I am at that such moment. This chosen path and I are not so well suited anymore, each of us has changed a bit and something much be altered so that we may remain together. Hard choices must be made, to change myself, to change my path or maybe a bit of both. This December is my month of contemplation.
A puppy has managed to stumble into my life. I am desparately attempting to make room for her in my hectic, chaotic lapses of time called my life. Somehow I find bits of time here and there to toss her ball, stand out in the sunshine, holding her lease while she pees and there even seems to be time for snuggling. I might find her required need for my time resentful, but with each interation comes a puppy smile, and puppy hugs and adoring eyes. Ok, ….I can probably managed this. After all, whose heart has not the space for love?
Wow, has it been a year since I have posted ?? Really? It doesn’t feel that way….hmmmm….
I recently went on a fabric purchasing tour which led me into the bowels of a particular warehouse. I love the dark, creepiness of the battered wood shelving where old remnants lie awaiting their fate. Here, bundle upon bundle of fabric lay tossed into heaps as if unloved and forgotten. I have not forgotten them, I love them. They are attic treasures and I get to sift through their bodies in quiet solitude for few others bother to search these darkened aisles, feathered with cobwebs and old hanging lightbulbs to dimly light our way.
This trip, I found wonderful, soft blue ticking, over dyed by misfortune and tainted a soft fawn brown as if covered with stains. Yards and yards of this mis dyed and stained stripe lay there. It looked like it could be the fabric of my Grandfathers Apron, old, used, worn and loved. I walked out with armloads and on my way out on a different weather beaten shelf, I found the floral match. I smiled. Here was Grammy’s old Apron Fabric.
Great clothes begin with great fabric, or at least, fabric that inspires the designer.
You can feel it sometimes, like water sweeping gently over you; life, it can move that way, it can move with such force, it nearly takes your breath away.
Every piece of fabric that lays upon my hand,
causes my mind to drift
into a stream of imaginary images
of all that the fabric could be.
Image after image,
stream after stream,
I imagine all that I want you to wear.
After so many versions, I’m happy.
I like the floral lace rather than geometric points.
… and the green will work for Holiday.
Somehow, someway, I really, really need to add working out to my day…and to eat real meals….not grab and go food.
Vermont is warming and I’m drawn to the dirt road where I use to run each day. I worked so hard for the last decade, I am no longer physicaly what I hoped to be. Runnning use to free me from the days stress. Vermont is a beautiful place to run.
The Gardening season has begun, an entire month earlier than usual. I begin each year by raking the remnants of the snow plow off my lawn’s edge, the goal is for this first step to take place on Earth Day. This year it was completed 4 weeks early in late March.Incredible to gain an extra month of Gardening. I look forward to what other surprises might come. In the meantime I play with ideas for new Gardening Aprons. As I begin my summer yard and garden work, I ask myself, what new Gardening Apron would help me?