What Children Have Taught Me

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Clementine, waiting for a treat.
This has no bearing on this post, in any way shape or form.

Here is a list of the things my children have taught me:


1. They have x-ray eyes and can see right through me.
 (hard to get away with much around here...)

2. They have an uncanny ability to know when I am sneaking a cookie before dinner.
 (drat)

3. There is always one of the four that remembers my birthday and rallies the other three.
 (four if you count my husband, as one of the children)

4. Just because they look like us (their parents), they won't necessarily think like us.
 (sometimes this is a good thing other times, not so much)

5. How they performed as children, has little or                                                                                            nothing to do with how they will perform as adults.
 (this may or may not be a surprise to me,                                                                                                       depends on the day)

This is the list of what I hope I have taught my children:

Peaches, that I harvest this summer.
Could someone please explain to me
 why my husband calls me "a peach" as an endearment,
but he hates peaches? Great mystery.

1. Always be kind.
  (it cost no money, only, sometimes, one's  pride)

2. Floss, EVERYDAY, always.
   (protects your heart, your gums and your teeth)

3. Remember to say your prayers.
   ("Say your prayers O'Toole!"*)

4. Read, then read some more.
   (expands your world, and increases your            vocabulary)

5. Know that I love them, no matter what.
   (even when it doesn't seem like it, 
I do)



* Thank you, Jacob Two-Two and the Hooded Fang, for that quote.

The Clearing

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Tomato, watercolor

Last week I was away. While it is only Monday, and I have been home only one full day, it feels like a life time ago.

Beans, watercolor. 


Leaving my family behind and traveling with an old friend, I headed north to paint for one whole week with no laundry to wash, no beds to make, no meals to cook, no television, computers, phones, or radios.

Tree on the way to painting studio.

This retreat was in Door County, Wisconsin at a place called: The Clearing.
It was founded by Jens Jenson in 1935 and has been providing a place to learn, reflect and reconnect with nature ever since.

Nest, watercolor

Fish, watercolors

Twelve hour days of painting with someone else making the meals and cleaning them up. Heaven on earth! Don't get me wrong, caring and feeding my family is a labor of love.

I cannot recommend this place strongly enough. It is filled with peace, wonderful people, and very, very good food.


Go to the Clearing! As fast as you are able!
Enjoy the trees,
the quiet, the peace of being
able to create

Cleaning out my brain.

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One wall in my "studio"

Today, I feel like I am cleaning out my brain. Dusting off old ideas, finding new ones under stacks of objects, papers covering my desk, and work table in my studio. Which is a glamorous word for my space I create in. I often pause, and hesitate to refer to it in this manner. It seems an  over inflated name for it.

Just a small sampling of the ribbons I have in my possession!

In reality, the primary space is a large room in my basement with several small windows which let in sunshine, thank God.  There is a large white table, and many steel shelves that hold stacks of; containers with buttons, painting supplies, sewing supplies, glue, and hot glue guns.  The walls not covered by shelves, are covered by racks of: thread, items used with my weaving looms, reeds, lease sticks, harnesses, and heddles.  The rafters, above my head,  hold wooden canvas stretchers for the floor cloths, and mural canvases, I paint.  There is also a flat file cabinet, to house the many paintings and drawings, I have never known what to do with.  Fabric, yarn, knitting, crocheting supplies abound, the collection of vintage ribbons is very enjoyable to work with, and look at. I have several weaving looms, one very large, for rugs and yardage, as well smaller inkle and tapestry looms. Silk painting supplies abound here too, the list goes on and on...

Actually, my husband thinks of the whole house as space I create in. Which may or may not be true.

Maybe it is that time of year. Heading back indoors after a summer in the garden.  Or maybe it is that time in my life. Either way, I do feel on the cusp. Of what I am not entirely sure.

I certainly have created many projects, thorough out this place I call home, and I am curious what the next creation will be.  Time will tell.

Saturday Madness

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Again, nothing to do with this post,
 but better then a picture of my messy desk,
don't you think? *

It is Saturday and the madness has begun. For some reason, all week long I was able to put up with furniture not dusted or carpets not swept, but today, I simply cannot stand it another moment.

Which, of course, causes several dilemmas.

1. My husband is home.
(Which means that interruptions abound)

2. My desk in my office seems to be yelling for me to clean it off.
(Which means I must read a 1000 things I have put off, and decide what to do with them, which of course I cannot,  which is why they are there in the first place)

3. I want to get ahead of the work that needs to be done on Monday as I am busy canning that day.
(So, I have added even more things to the infinite list of things to be accomplished today.)

4. It is beautiful outside and my garden is beckoning for me to do all of the tiding up that was not attended to during the week.
(Truly, this is a bottomless task, that will never be done, even if I do go out there and start on it. I need minions.)

5. We are expecting a house guest and her baby tomorrow and the guest room must have a through going over.
(Of course, this always takes longer then I think, and was one of the things I was going to get done earlier in the week, so it would not have to be done today.)

6. The list is getting too long to even think about.
(Maybe I will have lunch and plan some more...which will only prolong the agony. DRAT!)

I can hardly wait until next Saturday, when this will all begin again.

*This is a picture of a sampler at my very good friend's house that I have always admired. 

Caught Unaware

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Some of my "older work" which
 has little or nothing to do with this post.

My fingers uncurl,
(as your words
curl 
around my heart)
to draw you
closer.

Bringing into focus,
(what no eyeglasses
could ever achieve)
how dear
you have become

to me.