Moon Shadow

The year is a quarter past already, it is hard to believe!  I am not doing as much sewing as I did at the beginning of the year but I am still making progress.  I have sent in 11 quilts to a longarm service and have received seven of them (and a table runner) back so far.  I have four quilts currently in progress; two mystery quilts, a machine-embroidered quilt, and one with heart-shaped blocks.    The mystery quilts won’t be done for a couple more months since I need to wait for clues, which I receive every two weeks.  The other two should be done more quickly.  I am thinking about joining a subscription purse/bag club where I would receive a kit every three months; I know it is a little more expensive to do it that way, but I am making a real effort to control my ever-growing stash.    I have about another forty projects currently in my queue and seem to add a new one every time I enter a quilt store.

The only 'new news' is that we finally got out for a mini vacation.  My son’s family and Jack and I went to Ohio last weekend, to a hotel near the center of the “band of totality,” to view the eclipse.  I think it is safe to say that we are all very glad that we made the effort, although it was tiring to take such a trip over just a couple of days.   We all spent one night at the hotel, but Jack and I were lucky enough to spend a second night there thanks to my son, who had the foresight to book a second night but then had to cancel.   As it turned out, he and his family had to drive home the same day because of school commitments.  Their normal 3 hour drive ended up taking almost 8 hours because of the heavy eclipse traffic and. although I felt bad for them,  I am so grateful I didn’t have to do that.   

But the experience was a memorable one for all of us and there were no regrets — being with my family is my favorite thing in the world, because nothing is more important to  me than my family.  But seeing the total eclipse was just amazing.  We all saw the eclipse in 2017, but - because of our location this time, chosen by my son — this one lasted quite a bit longer.  We snacked on picnic foods on a quilt that I made for my daughter in law and enjoyed ice cream and being together.  My grandkids both worked on homework and their friend, Vanessa, crocheted.   I gave the girls eclipse bracelets that I thought were pretty.

The weather was perfect, most of the time we were comfortable in just tshirts, donning light jackets as the sun disappeared.   (Here at home today, just 3 days later, I need to wear a winter coat outside.  It is cold again, with wind gusts up to 50 miles per hour.)

When the total eclipse occurred, we all stopped everything to just stare at it in awe.  

Allie, my son’s family dog, was with us and she was moving about and enjoying herself, looking for one comfortable spot after another much of the afternoon.  When the sky went dark, she lay down and went into a deep slumber, as if it were late at night, and she had a hard time waking up for quite some time after the sun started to show again.   

The next eclipse in the contiguous United States won't happen for another 21 years.  It is strange to think that I may not be here to see that one but I know how lucky I've been to see two of them.    Then again, who knows.  Maybe by then 95 will be the new 50!

Time Goes By

It has been over a year now since my daughter Ruth died.  I was touched by the people who remembered; my dear friend Marie Louise, my son Tony, and surprisingly, a former sister in law.  My husband gave me a remembrance charm that I had engraved “no tears today.”  The phrase is a nod to the sticker that Ruth put on her piano keyboard more than 20  years ago, and a reminder of my beautiful optimistic child who lived through so many traumas but who  never gave up hope that things could get better.  Sadness has always been a part of me, but now it feels as if it has made a home; there is no fighting it anymore.

I continue to sew, not as much as I should or could but more than enough.  The three quilts I made for my husband’s three children are finished, labeled, boxed and ready for him to give them at any time.  My mother’s quilt is back from the longarm and ready to bind and label.  My mother sewed beautifully all her life and made most of my clothing when I was young, but only started quilting later in life.  She made her own templates and pieced her quilt tops all by hand and gave several of them away after they were quilted -- all of them to men in the family except for the one she made for my daughter.   Sewing became more difficult as her dementia progressed, and this is the last quilt top she made.  It was packed away in a box and I decided this year that it was time to finish it while I still can.  I am hoping that one of her great grandchildren will treasure it as a family heirloom. 

The first one (of two) picnic quilts is finished and ready for use.  The second one is done and ready to be quilted; I want my daughter in law to have a choice so I am waiting for the second one to be done before I show them to her.    I finished a simple horse-themed quilt top as a gift for the woman who cuts my hair and will have that quilted soon.  And I am making progress on the two “mystery quilts” that I have committed to make.  

Spring is (surely) right around the corner, but there is still snow on the ground and it is still cold, below freezing much of the time.  It is (past) time for me to do some serious spring cleaning so that I will be ready to let the sunshine in!

Moving Right Along While Standing Still

Here it is, nearing the end of February.  I am still staying close to home and not making any effort to keep up with many people.  I have not made any attempt to see anyone but family in almost a year.  I am well enough; experiencing a few annoying but not fatal old-age-female-specific health problems, a chipped tooth, cataracts and hearing problems.  I frequently wish I were someplace warm but am too tired or lazy or disinterested to travel.  So in some ways I am still in a slump of sorts.  But I am still sewing!  

I’ve made a few more simple quilt tops, and I’ve started an embroidery-machine quilt for my daughter in law’s 50th birthday in August.  A machine-embroidered quilt like this one is simple enough to do, although frustrating (machine glitches and thread changes) and time consuming.  But she liked the embroidered quilts I made for her kids during the pandemic, so I  hope she will enjoy this one, too, because I love her very much.  I wish I could think of something special to make for my son, too, so I am still pondering that.

I’ve purchased two “Brown Bag Mystery” quilt packets, for a national quilting project involving numerous small shops.  This is something I‘ve never done before - participants purchase a brown bag of fabric, most of it unseen (except for one clue), without knowing the pattern.  They (and I!) will start receiving clues in March for what to do with the fabric in the packets.  I’ve never done one of these before and hope it will be fun.  I also hope I will actually finish the quilts!  

Meanwhile, all three of the finished quilt tops intended for Jack’s 3 kids and the picnic quilt for my daughter in law are off to the longarm quilter, and I have the other quilt tops that I've finished so far measured, packed and ready to go as soon as the checkbook allows (hoping to find a promo code or sale price, too!)  

I also made another simple tote bag, made less simple by a missing page in the instructions, but finished nonetheless. I have other little odds and ends - a purse strap, pillow cases - ready to finish but need to wait for my "regular" machine to come back from the repair shop, since I’ve got the embroidery machine already in nearly constant use.

In between, I’m working on cutting and designing another simple tumbler quilt with scraps.  I’ve bagged and gotten rid of a large volume of the scraps that had been piling up, but still have more than enough to make a quilt . . . or ten, I suspect.  I have a long list of projects ready to go but seem to keep adding more.

Weather-wise, our false Spring has ended and it is cold again.  The creek out back is glazed with ice but not fully frozen, and the chipmunks are in and out of  hibernation, depending on  how cold the day is.  The squirrels never disappeared this winter, which is unusual but not too surprising as it has been unseasonably warm.   Too cold for me, but not cold enough to freeze the lakes and rivers that usually freeze over for part of the season.  Jack is ill yet again with some kind of respiratory 'bug'; this "up and down" weather has not been friendly for him.   I recall that when I was a child the old family doctor used to say that people get ill in the winter when it isn't cold enough to kill the things that make us sick that time of year.   Old folk wisdom that may lack any firm scientific basis but perhaps created an explanation for what he had seen connected to weather patterns even then.  We have been fortunate in Michigan, spared the extremes that other parts of the world are seeing.  Here, in my little bubble, we are starting to see the green shoots of daffodils, so Spring is surely on its way.

Powerless

We had three days without power this month during a cold snap, and another several hours on a second occasion.  Although we bought a new generator a couple years ago, and tested it then, it did not work when we pulled it out to actually use it.  We could have afforded to go to a hotel, but Jack was worried about pipes freezing.  After a long day of dead ends, after the first full day without power or heat, when the house started to get cold enough to worry us a bit, he borrowed back an old generator that he had passed down to his kids.  Using the old generator, after 6 more trips to the hardware store for bits and pieces to get it running, he was able to turn on the heat and hot water in 6-hour stints to protect our pipes, which was our main concern.   We were never dangerously cold, no threat to life, and I had 6 layers of clothing and a whole pile of quilts, but you would have thought from my internal whining that I was suffering a crisis.  Which made me (finally)  think about the many people in the world who, in fact, are suffering exactly that.  I am so spoiled, and no matter how much I give to charity, no matter how "liberal" my vote, I have no idea what life is like for the countless people who, through accident of birth, are without food, water, and heat this winter., and who aren't going to see a fix after just a couple of days  And yet I, with nothing to complain about, found myself complaining at the slightest inconvenience.  I become cranky so easily at so little.  It is definitely time for me to count some blessings.

Not a Total Slacker

To my surprise, I started this year with a sewing surge.  To be clear, I am not a great quilter; I make only the most simple quilts, and I am on the far other end of perfection in my craft.  For instance, today I realized that I put two whole rows upside down on a quilt I was assembling, shrugged, and called it done.  I chalk every mistake up to a “design decision” because no one knows what I intended in the first place, and so far no one has noticed or cared.  That said, I have still been more productive at this point in 2024 than in any recent year, and have completed 5 quilt tops so far, with two more in the works, a third "lazy goose" and another one with the Charley Harper bird prints.  They are both mostly cut out and waiting for background fabric.  Since I “quilt by checkbook,” it might be awhile before they are truly finished and in the stack for people to see at my year-end review, which is fine since the year-end won’t happen for . . . a year.   

I also found an old quilt top that was hand-pieced by my mother.   It has been in a box since she died, and was made sometime prior to 1990, and the cutting and sewing was all done by hand, using a cardboard template that she made herself.  She made quilt  tops for several family members - my daughter and the men and boys in the family - and sent them to an Appalachian quilt guild to be hand quilted, and this must be the last one she was able to complete since she never mailed it off for quilting.  My mother had sewn her whole life, making all of her and many of my dresses when I was young.  She had dementia that developed over many years, and it is evident to me from the uneven stitches in this quilt top that she was probably nearing the point where she could no longer sew.  My relationship with her was fraught, and I did not keep any of the un-gifted quilts she made, sending them instead to a brother who wanted them.  I am finally ready to have this last quilt top backed and quilted, hoping that my son or a grandchild might like to have it. 

I doubt that I’ll continue to complete projects at this pace and that’s okay, although it would be nice to use up more of the fabric that is stacked up in my sewing room.   Whether I do or not, it feels good to have made a productive start to the new year.

Projects of 2023 - photo heavy

2023 felt like a very slow sewing year, but I got more done than I realized, and not everything is even pictured.  I finished quite a few quilts and bags, an assortment of ornaments and tea towels and table runners, and also made pillowcases, jar openers and napkins for my whole family.  Of course I haven't even put a dent in my stash/project pile, so we'll see what this year brings.

The End of a Difficult Year

2023 has been a challenge for me, from beginning to end.  Although I am grateful for many things that happened this year, it knocked the wind out of me in other ways.  The year began with a visit to New Orleans and my daughter, and I am extremely grateful for that, although at the time it broke my heart.   Though we talked almost daily, I had not seen Ruth in person for over five years, for a variety of reasons.  Some of those reasons were mine, and I regret my reluctance to visit; Ruth was always excited for me to come, but her addiction interfered more each time, and the past several visits were disappointing to both of us because she was only able to “get it together” to see me once or twice during my week-long visits.  I could not justify the expense to travel there and spend a week alone, and she could not stay sober, so I put off visiting more than I should have.  Then, too, she spent some of those years in jail or in rehab.  She was not able to come to my wedding because she could not leave the state, and then there was Covid.  So way too much time went by between visits.  I am grateful that we talked all the time, all those years, whenever we could.   Even last January, when I was available to be with her 24-7, we only got together for three short visits, despite both our plans to the contrary.   When I saw her I was shocked at how her health had deteriorated since the last time we had been together.  So shocked by her appearance, in fact, that I did not take our usual ‘selfie’ before I left for home, which of course I deeply regret.  But Ruth promised me and herself that she was ready to fully commit to rehab, and we talked and cheered her on over the next weeks, both of us hopeful because this was the first time she had really, really wanted to get help.  Her social worker promised that she was going to a long-term facility and would be there for a month or more, and she couldn’t wait.  I sent her a duffle bag I’d made, packed with the labeled belongings she was told to bring, and I had a box ready to mail with the items the facility said I could provide.  Ruth called me when she arrived and she was excited to begin, but only a few days later she called again to say that there was an “insurance problem” and they were sending her home until they could straighten it out.  She arrived home on a Friday to find another woman with her boyfriend in their apartment, wearing her clothes, but she promised me that her focus remained on sobriety despite the hurt and sadness.  We were in almost constant touch as she tried to process her next steps.  She was dead a few days later.

Ruth was found on a Friday in March and that is her official date of death, but I had talked to her several times the previous Monday and could not reach her after that, despite dozens of attempts.  Her boyfriend left her alone Monday night, passed out on the bed, and he was the one who found her in the same place when he finally returned home the following Friday, so I believe she died on Monday evening and was already dying or  even dead when he left.  

As I told her constantly, I was proud of Ruth; she was brave and creative and hopeful and kind to others, but undermined by outside forces and experiences, many of which were beyond her control.  She struggled much of her life with PTSD, along with other diagnoses.  I have wished a million times that I could have done a better job of protecting her, that I could go back to find the thread of her life and stop it from unraveling.   I’ve been told by several people that there will come a time when I am grateful, at least, that Ruth no longer  has to struggle, but I doubt that will happen unless I get over the fact that she had to suffer at all, and I don’t see that happening anytime soon.  Talk of religion only makes me bitter.

Every moment of the remainder of the year was tainted by the loss of my youngest child, and of course that undercurrent will be with me for the rest of my life.  But the year also brought many things I am grateful to have experienced.  This year marked the high school graduation and start of college for my oldest grandchild, an extremely talented musician and mathematician, who brings me joy every time I think of him.   I saw him and his sister perform with their orchestra several times, including a performance of a piece composed by my grandson.  That was a special thrill.  This is the senior year of high school for my next oldest grand, who is a stellar student, a talented musician and artist who also delights my soul.  

In a very different way than with Ruth, I am so proud of them both.  With Ruth my pride was always tinged with regret for the things she had suffered, and my memories are touched with the same.  With the grands, my feelings have no such conflict.  They are both accomplished and smart and doing remarkable things, but my pride and joy in them stems mostly from how decent and thoughtful they are.  They are genuinely nice people.  I want them to be happy but beyond that, it doesn’t matter to me what they choose to do or become.  They are enough in themselves to make me proud.  And both of them seem to be level-headed and to have a foundation of  love and confidence that makes me so very happy.

My son and his wife celebrated their 22nd anniversary this year and as always, I am amazed at how time has flown by since I first met and fell in love with the woman my beloved son would eventually marry and raise children with.  They and their family are certainly the best thing in my life, always.  And in my birth family, two of my siblings, both with severe health issues, continued to do better than anyone expects, and I am grateful for the time we’ve had together, and which we cherish more every year.  Meanwhile my third sibling, the healthiest of the lot, continues to run marathons and break records in his age group.  Jack's children live close by and we are grateful to be able to spend time with them so often.

Jack and I are getting older, and that is also a matter of good fortune.  We feel lucky to be doing it together.   

And my little “bonus” grandson, born to my step-daughter two and a half years ago, is a bright and beautiful delight.  His messy kisses, sticky fingers and cute little demands are wonderful in themselves, but they also bring memories of all the other children I’ve loved as they moved through those darling toddler years.

Because Jack and I have Covid I will be missing our annual Chocolate Fondue New Year's celebration, my favorite holiday of the year, and I am very sad about that.  There is something special about a tradition that goes all the way back to when my son was a little boy, and I look forward to it all year, which has nothing to do with the chocolate.   So I will miss being with my family, as we all get older and more spread out, our times together are more precious every year.  Besides the concern of infection, this virus has knocked me flat; I feel terrible.  So I'm not happy about any of it, but maybe I can find some small benefit in having this evening of quiet reflection.  In some ways it is a fitting way to end a difficult year.

It has been a difficult year, but I remain luckier than most and grateful for all the good.   I will try to focus on that in the coming year.  Here's hoping that 2024 will bring peace and health to all of us.