This past week has been a void in time. Snow came earlier than was predicted and we had not done storm prep. Randy was in Knoxville on Tuesday, coming home on Wednesday but snowstorm on Wednesday kept him in Knoxville until Thursday. Still couldn't reach our house. Car stuck in a ditch and someone gave him a ride in on an ATV. And we have been snowed in ever since. Intermittent power. Feeding the woodstove to stay warm. Conserving cell phone batteries by not spending time chatting on them or on the internet. Here we are on Sunday morning and it is beautiful outside. So much bright sunshine, and blue blue skies, and lots of snow. We are beginning to feel a bit of cabin fever but remind ourselves of our good fortune to be in a place of warm shelter and food when so many others are stranded in cars, on highways, flooding in other places, and many more inches of snow than ours for others.
When the power is on I'm in a rush to get soup made, and a pot of chili, things that are easier to heat up on the woodstove. Wash dishes, make sure there's coffee in the thermos. Water bowls full for pups. Heaving huge sighs of relief that the tubs are filled so we can flush commodes. Shovel spots for pups to do their business outside (that they sometimes use and sometimes deem it necessary to go out into the deep snow to try to find their scent. I'm worn out just from going from window to window, chair to chair to stove to chair to other chair, outside for wood, back to the chair, or the other chair, feed the birds and commiserate with them on how cold it is for them and how hard for them to find food in snow...and so the path of this past week has gone...hard to know with certainty what day it is. Interesting how at the beginning it always feels cozy and snug and time for reading and reflecting and going at a much more quiet and gentler pace...then the inner restlessness starts to build and the urgent need for fresh air on your skin. Too restless to settle into hand sewing or quilting.
Tuesday, January 05, 2016
January 1, 2, and 3, 2016
These are my first three Quilty 365 circles. I made one last night but haven't gotten a picture of it yet. Audry at www.quiltyfolk.blogspot.com started this challenge last November (?), making one block with circle (moon) a day for a year. She has a badge for your wall, which I haven't gotten on my blog yet. Lots of quilters have hopped on this bandwagon. They are all so different and unique and lots of fun to look through and meet new quilters. :) I waited until January 1 to start mine. I'm hoping that I can make one a day for this whole year. A new Ritual? Already it is something that I look forward to sitting down with for a few minutes before heading off to bed. :)
Saturday, January 02, 2016
The new year has begun, and time is racing on. This morning dawned cold and so covered with frost that it looked like snow. Now the sun is shining so brightly and the sky is so blue that they are enticing me outside to find that the air temperature is only about 35 degrees. A tad chilly still for my flipflops that are year-around house shoes. Still, the wide-open space, and lovely feel of the air against my face, beckon me. I should be stronger, and bolder, and give in to my childish yearnings to be outside from dawn to dusk---no matter the weather or the temperature. :)
Yesterday I was busy all day trying to do a bit of everything that I would like to do throughout this new year of ours (hours). I walked 2 miles (36 degrees) (and yes, I am way proud that I went out and did it), I sewed my first 'Moon' block for 365 Quilty Days of the Year. Picture to be posted soon so that I will have a log of the 'moons' or 'circles' which is my word for 2016, had coffee by the fire, I cooked, I read, I talked to friends and family, loved on the dogs...I missed a few things (such as a bike ride on the trainer), but maybe I can sneak those in today and it will still bode well for this coming year. :)
May the new year be full of all that delights your heart.
Friday, January 01, 2016
From Rilke's Book of Hours, translation by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy:
God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your belonging.
Flare up like flame
and make big shadows that I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.