Purple Dragon Flies

Last summer, my son decided the spare bedroom would be a better place for my sewing room. So he packed up my stuff and moved it. My sewing room became the computer room; my sewing stuff languished in boxes, baskets, and piles.

One of the first things I did when we got back was move all my equipment and supplies into a corner of the dining room. After organizing and purging, I started sewing again.


There is a sew along/challenge going on that would be fun to join, so I bought the stuff. Yes, those are purple dragon flies on the fabric. Is there a problem?


So far, I have cut out all the pieces.



While Joe was in the hospital,I was staying with a friend of a friend in Cambridge. She is a massage therapist who needed a research subject for a presentation. I volunteered and received 5 sessions. This is the final "after" picture she took of me. I realize I have lost weight but was surprised to notice (gasp) an actual waist line re-appearing! That's one reason I want to make myself a new skirt.

It's No Secret

That Joe and I were away for a long, long time. We were exiled to the distant territory of Boston, MA, where each aspect of everyday life is foreign, but the medical care available is more than excellent.



This is a view from my commute. Yes, that's a train sharing the road with me. I got used to that and lots of other quirks of Boston driving.



We are back home now. Not trying to get back to normal, but trying to find a new normal. Big changes are ahead, not the least of which is that I am no longer a second grade teacher. I'm on leave until September when I will be facing a new assignment.

I'm starting a new blog, where I will be cross posting for a while. Eventually this one will be lost to the mists of time. I will be more candid and open (and hopefully more anonymous) at the new blog. If you'd like a link, email me at cat(underscore)pencil(underscore)tea(at)yahoo(dot)com.

Because I Got Nuthin'

I stole and then modified this meme for myself (I don't remember where I saw it, sorry). You were supposed to go to your 6th photo folder and post the first picture in it. But since I prefer prime numbers and making up my own rules, I went to the 19th folder and posted the 13th picture. And then you were supposed to explain the picture.

This picture was taken late last summer, right before school started. It's evening, and I'm walking home from watching the movie "Burn After Reading." (I will watch every Cohen Brothers movie.) I obviously didn't mean to take this picture, and I get many like this because my phone has a touch screen. (Sometimes I'm touching it when I don't mean to. I also make a lot of unintended phone calls, which can be embarrassing.)

This photo reflects my dealing with difficult life issues coping strategy: Just. Keep. Moving.

Clearing Memory

I don't know what made me remember.

My uncle and some of his kids used to live near us when I was little. He was building a house which never amounted to anything but the cellar/foundation. He intended to build the rest of the house, but never did. So that's where they lived, in the cellar. The walls were cinder blocks, I don't think the interior dividing walls even went all the way up to the ceiling. Curtains were strung in doorways, the windows were high and small. There was a kitchen area, but nothing was permanant. Storage was a bunch of stacked wooden crates and boards mounted for shelving. Everything smelled musty and moldy. It seemed impossible for anything to be clean there. And it was dark, even on bright, sunny days.
My uncle's wife had left him with four of the kids. Since he couldn't take care of the kids and work, my grandma came to help out. I don't remember how long she was there, because a little girl's perception of time is not accurate. But it was long enough for the baby to start walking and become potty trained. I do remember everyone saying, "Why didn't she take the baby? The baby is not even his." And I remember wondering what that meant.
We had fun visiting and playing with our cousins.
Eventually, his wife came back with more kids, and my Grandma left. We didn't visit anymore, because my mother couldn't stand Uncle's wife.
Things didn't work out between them and my uncle ended up leaving; he was going to Seattle to look for work. Both my mother's brothers were fearless Mohawk iron workers. I guess there was a lot going on in Seattle at that time, and a lot of the guys were headed that way.
My Dad drove my uncle to the airport, and I went along for the ride. Uncle was waiting with his stuff by the driveway. No one else was home except one cousin, a boy a few years older than me.
My cousin hugged his dad goodbye, and said, with tears rolling down his cheeks, "I don't want you to go."
My uncle answered, "I'm not leaving you. I just can't live with your mother. I'll make a lot of money where I'm going." Then we all got in the car, everyone but my cousin. We left him there alone and drove off to the airport.

My mother's father abanoned his children.
My uncle abandoned his children.
That cousin, who was left all alone crying that day, abandoned his children.

I needed four perfect, round rocks for an art project, so I went down to the lake to see if I could find them. I went to the place near the harbor hoping the ice wasn't too thick.

The ice is 5' thick in some places, and it extends hundreds of feet out into the water. The crack, thud, bang, splash noises are evidence that it's breaking up. I could have some awesome shots if I were brave enough to venture out onto the ice, but it isn't anywhere near solid.

The ice is thin in some places.

And gone in others. It took a while, but I found four perfect, round rocks.



Four rocks.
Four directions.
Four corners of the earth.

Now I feel more grounded.

As soon as it's daylight, I will take a walk in the woods to visit the beavers.

Nice Place To Read

My Antonia by Willa Cather, cup of coffee within reach, early morning light. A whole new day with no mistakes in it yet.


Last year, this space looked like this:

Okay

The administrator pops into my classroom during writing time.

"What grades did you teach at your last school?"

"2nd, 3rd, and 4th."

"Ahh. 4th. Just thinking outloud here. Trying to gather information."

Maybe my gig in 2nd grade is up...

I Go Out Wandering

The sun came out Sunday, warmed the air, and melted the snow. I decided to take a walk around the state park at the end of my street. The twice-as-strong lake wind never stops in the winter, so when my cell phone rang, I ducked behind a tree to chat with my sister.



I forget that the strong wind makes it colder here, a mere few hundred yards from my house. I came out with no hat and no gloves, so I walked a little faster to try to keep warm.



The waves and the warm air break up the ice, and the wind uncovered blue sky.



I trudged through melting, ankle deep snow on my way back to make dinner while the kid did his homework.