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Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Quilting in Pajamas



My mom and sister and I took a long seven hour drive to go up to Rangely, Maine this past weekend.  (and no one was gravely insulted or snidely put down, not even once!) I was booked into an Inn, they were booked into an Inn, and we all had views of the Lake.  It was GORGEOUS, and it rained for all but one day.... Our Inns were not the same, I was in a lockdown situation, a grim and desparate attempt to start and finish an entire quilt within the allotted time.  I was in over my head, but sitting with a dozen or so women who were floating in pontoons of quilting experience, so they were coaching and encouraging the entire time.



that tone is too ridiculous to continue. 
I was a sewing dervish.  Had my own room, no tv, didn't carry my phone, was fed, didn't have to clean up anything, was poured coffee and brought snacks as I worked, or within 10 feet of my work. One morning I woke up early and decided to just 'go on up' at 6:30, to find that there was hot coffee and four other women ahead of me, quilting in pajamas. 
The women I was sitting with were sisters, all 3 of them quilters with experience and I was mildly in love with them. There was laughter all weekend...
It was the perfect situation for me with my hearing... all the social awkwardness was taken away because i was just as focused as anybody else - on a whirring machine which precludes conversation.
I thought about my grandmother all weekend, I was using her fabrics, sitting in her State, doing her thing.  I spent some time thinking and dodging thinking about my dad, her son, too... it will be nice when I can do that without feeling like drowning.  In thinking of her, there is an innate remembrance of him, and it is comforting to do it this way. My grandmother was a strong intellect, a steady physical presence and goodness in the world.  Her skill sets and ability to keep herself busy are legend to me. It is good to remember a model like that.  She had a bum husband for a long time, though she loved him. And when she was in her sixties, she began to quilt.  All her children and grandchildren got quilts, and many of her great-grandchildren. (17-30 quilts.. seriously. and thats just the offspring.)
I missed my kids and hubsJ fleetingly, but not painfully, because I was so fixated.... I missed my husband tenderly while having a large male masseuse rub my hands during a chair massage on Saturday.  Even typing it feels sortof soft porn-like.  pbbst.  My hubsj does have many good points, and his sheer physicality is one of them.  I didn't even go to my room after meals, just 'back to the grind'.... lovely.  i read a little bit of an Audrey Hepburn autobiography, which I have been wanting to do FOREVER.  and it was crap. but i did learn what i was looking to learn. so there.

In the last hour of the drive home, my mother and I talked about our grief processes.  I worry so much, now that a year without my dad is finishing up, about her deep loneliness for him. . . and her frailty and anxieties seem to be growing... and I have my own worries for myself and this life i have had for such a long time.  and what is so difficult for me, in a way, is the realization - or i don't even know if 'realization' is right... the recognition that the only way through is to keep plodding on.  while i may feel like lying down in the middle of the driveway after putting the kids on the bus, and it would be fine if i did that... eventually, i have to get myself up... i do.  nobody is coming to rescue, or even to give a hand up.  ( maybe if i were literally there still when the bus got back, i imagine the kids or the busdriver might give me a hand up, but i don't think i'll wait to experience that particular thing..) I find it is something that I have to re-learn time and time again, and maybe it is so strong right now because I've lost my faith, and my father all in one, and the startle of it is what makes it so 'truthy' . 
I'm heavy with the plodding these days, and I am looking for more.  MOOORE.   MOWER. 

Maybe i'm looking for a landscaper? pbt.


Thursday, October 16, 2014

sand suck

eventually, the waves will get you, the sand will pull at your ankles and you'll topple like so many trees... eventually it will be timber for you.

timberrrrrrrr

this, of course, is only true if you don't step out of your self-imposed beach stillness.

this weekend we'll be burying my dad's ashes, doing the graveyard thing, doing a go out on a boat thing, to drop some more bits in the ocean.  i have to say i'm on the crumbly side of things, finding it hard to deal with my mother's style of grief and event-planning. and so, finding myself in deep grief with nothing but deep resistance to all the planning.  right now i am a little bit worried that i will literally refuse to get on the boat, the finality of this all being something that might splinter me, and i'm not sure i've got the stuff necessary to make it through any more of this. 

and on and on... i did post that this event was going on, i don't know... may be too much sharing but i wanted to know a bit about how people handle this shit... and mostly people said to look for signs, and others said they were still sobbing sometimes after 18 months, 2 years... i imagine that looking for signs will help when i get to it- if only because nature is pretty damn impressive, and it would be good to be distracted... and i guess its good to be more realistic about how fucked up i am when its only been a year and its a big final push right now...
pah. agh.
i'm sorry i havne't written more, i am. 

let me add a picture. nature sign from june. hold on...

 
have at it, sweet pea...

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

these things...

i might need to be medicated.

1. i can't get in touch with chakra carol and so i'm convinced that she has died because death is all i can see around me, the futility of life in the face of it, the inevitability of isolation.

2. wine does not work.

3. i am not a good time girl.

4. i literally barked at my husband in cynicisitic rage.  no, i don't think that is a word either.

5. losing my faith has made me feel more lonely than I ever would have believed. 

6. tigerscouts is rolling around again.  shit. caucophony, is all i can say. 

7. is being medicated like going through life a little stoned?  i always said i didn't want to get through that way but i am worried my anxiety is growing into something unmanageable.

8. i can even be anxious on a beach.  and that is sort of heartbreaking.

9. i'm scared of women.  don't care much for men, as a general rule.  but boy, i am intimidated by women.

10.  today's dinner is supported by a new store i discovered, after following numerous rumors.  hello, bags and bags of frozen soups.  ( and a bread, and a bean and cheese quesadilla for the one who won't eat anything else.)

11. laundry ad more laundry and then more.

wanted to end at eleven, so did. 

cheers.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Tigerscouts in hell.

Last night was the informational night for the cubscouts.  The middle is deep in thrall to all things 'turtle' and was told that they look for turtles and so now i believe i am conscripted into one of the damndest levels of hell that dante skipped over.  bastard.
the problem is not what i had originally thought, that i was too judgemental about skinny fathers who smell of smoke and whos kids can't run.  its not.  its not the class issue that i berated myself for, its not the distaste for uniforms, social order based on hierarchy, 'family-building' which happens outside the family, splitting the family up for one night a week. 
its these things:

1. 6:30 at night, for an hour. 
2. little or no 'control' of kids behavior.  They sit for 30 minutes doing an 'activity' and then they run.  i love my kid to have fun, i love it.  but at 7:30? i'm almost dead at this time, and i need to keep all things quiet and calm.
2. a large cavernous church hall is impossible to hear anything in and i need a decompression chamber in order to calm myself afterward. seriously, last night i was in tears when i got home because i don't know how i am going to contribute to the social life of my middle.  he gets shafted out of so many things. i say it really really rarely, but yesterday i said ' i just want to hear'. . . it would make this shit a whole lot easier to handle if i could hear the parents and grownups around me and converse like a normal person.  its almost like i'm the only person speaking creole in the room and so i'm lost. its heartbreaking and it would be easier if i wore a sign.  ALMOST DEAF. APPROACH WITH CAUTION. (or compassion, whichever comes easier.)
2. lots of twos.
2. I've got the toddler with me, like i did when the eldest tried this out. this means it is a total and complete waste of time for me to be there and yet i am supposed to be there all the time to promote the 'bond'.
3. i don't like the quotes and statistics that they put up on the board about how noone gets scholarships and scouts keeps kids off drugs.  i know noone gets scholarships but that isn't why kids play sports, right? and PLAY is the operative word. AND i think drugs and the role they play in our future is not up to us as much as we think.  we all do our talks and love our kids and stay involved with them, and keep our fingers legs and toes crossed.  because we all know how it can go. so we cross them starting yesterday.
4. i don't want to ask hubsJ to do this, because he is already doing a soccer practice directly beforehand and would then be overstretched. 

oh my god. uniforms.
(my kid LOVES this part. costume.)

(really nice people, yes, some REALLY nice people. some of them i have met in situations where i could actually HEAR them so i know they are nice, good, eggs.)

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Been caught reading...

Janes Addiction cues here:


as a matter of fact... when i like somethiiiing and i don'wanna pay for it....

i get it, just like that... from

the bookshelf.


we have an overload of books, and i mean roomload of overload.  and so in place of writing here or anywhere, i have read. the kids have still been fed, but some errands are taking weeks to complete rather than a day, and that is what that is...
i read the lord of the rings trilogy.  i did.  and i want to know desperately about the entwives.  where the hell are they?
i think i have a tree complex.  i also want to know a whole lot more about Groot, from Guardians of the Galaxy.  he is the only reason i made it through that movie, which lots of other people seemed to like, even barbara streisand liked it... good lord.

i've read the paper. yes, digitally, but still.

i've read a book called 'White Bird Flying', by Bess Aldritch, which is really dated, but showcases a young Nebraskan writer who choses to marry rather than pursue the 'big life' of a writing career and inherited money. hmm. BUT, it is definitely a midwest beauty book, changing times, sentimentality about dugout living and pioneer skills as well as dropdead love for landscape.  and sometimes i need to be reminded that this here that I am doing, this 'homelife' is the biggest 'biglife' that there is.... and no problems that are here won't be found in all the other places in the world.  and dropdead landscape is something i really go for.

(the toddler has hit the twos, and my nerves are being pinched, i tell you. but she still naps for a large chunk of the middle of the day, if i do things right, hence the reading. )

so, that was a four book check-in... i hear there is a louise penney book on its way to me from my mom, so that'll be my next lovedrop.

i hope you're all well... i do, i do.   i'm sort of on lockdown emotionally, so i find it hard to come here as i don't know what i'm offering exactly.... but a drop has been made! 
take care, have care,

wmx