Shifting gears doesn't feel likely at the moment. I've been enjoying what are for me the leisurely arts - knitting, sewing, slapping bits torn from magazines and catalogs into my Smash journal. Perhaps I am connecting with a previous life as an educated lady awaiting my turn for the grand tour? (oh, how I wish!)
|one sleeve still to go ...|
The continued cold weather actually excites me because I keep bookmarking new knitting projects while busily finishing up current ones. There is only so much wool one person can wear, but I am determined to push the envelope on that front. Possibilities ... ah yes, my word for 2013 ... possibilities and enticements keep popping up in front of me.
In the spirit of encouraging more cultured practices, Cowgirl has been keeping up some penpal activities and so I made her this pouch to store the mail bounty that comes her way.
I made a second one for her buddy and have fabric awaiting a third creation (spoiler alert for one reader - shhhh ... don't spill the beans!)
|the directions for these "satchels" came from the book Handmade Home|
Meanwhile, we've (well, okay, me) have begun what I hope will become a regular practice: a family journal.
In years past Cowgirl and I would spend long drives home discussing our top 5 or 10 moments from our days. Low or challenging moments where also shared and it was a lovely way to capture the moments that might otherwise slip away. Now Cowgirl's school is a mile away and the habit vanished. Hence a journal which I intend to pull out after dinner and in it record the stories of our days. The Husband has already predicted this will last a few weeks (he's seen all my journals scattered about) but he forgets my stubborn streak (I know, me?!) and determination to prove him wrong (hey, I will admit when I'm wrong ... when it happens ...)
Perhaps I will soon record in our journal a leisurely and luxurious painting session? So far the only thing I've worked on in recent months is this piece attempting to capture the moment when our cat, Frida, left her body and flew (yes, I felt it!) into her next adventure.
That was almost 4 years ago (her passing, not the painting), but the memory is vivid and I want to honor the teachings she shared with all of us about life, determination (no is not a possibility) and - ah, yes! - contentment. (Our previous dog, Bandit, has been nosing his way into my consciousness and perhaps his will be the next memorial?)
So that is where I am ... for the moment. I know from experience that this place is the top of the wheel (much like reaching the top of a hill on a bike) and I am enjoying the coasting feeling which I know all too soon will hit a bottom and require mad pedaling for the hill up climb.
But by then, perhaps I will have a newly knitted shawl to comfort me as I go ...
I think the difference is maybe I'm busy doing and not indulging in excessive thinking or worrying. Taking the compulsive navel-gazing out and leaving the fun in. I am getting wiser in my old age? Or just tired and better able to let things go?