Home of FDR

We took a ride up to Hyde Park and had a tour of the Roosevelt family farm. We also visited the library which was the first presidential library to be opened by a sitting president. It was filled with artifacts from his life and those of his parents and of his wife Eleanor. Included in the pictures are Eleanor's sewing kit which she used when traveling. She was also a knitter and there were of pictures of her knitting. This pleased me as I am a great admirer and would like to think we have a common bond.
The building is the stable and the tiles were in the stable. And the beautiful clock face was in the mail hall. The house was not the grandest I have seen but it was fun to walk through and the tour guide was amusing- and the grounds are beautiful. Must have been a nice place to grow up-on a thousand or so acres overlooking the mighty Hudson river.

getting ready to paint

Almost ready. First I have to figure out how the pirate gets in.

only just

fifty things i am happy about
wait no
fifity things i am grateful for
nono fifty things that are good in my life
health
kids
mike
house
beach
painting
writing
music
sewing
no no these are dumb things
these are not good enough
not specific
my camera
my computer
too shallow too trivial
nice pens
arg how stupid
brown ink..
fabric. yarn .sheep godammit!
things of the earth things like stars my sight my vision my intelligence
my compassion
no no
not fifty things about yourself you idiot
well what then what am i supposed to be grateful for
my family(in case they are reading this)
my survival (inspite of the fact that they are probably not)
my talent
why is this always about you? it is my effing list shaddup shaddup shaddup
resilience bouncbakability
humor humor humor me
sex with mike
laughing with mike
driving places with mike
shopping at waldbaums with mike
deep tissue massage by mike
mike mike mike
internet
friends around the world and art
and my art
someone elses’s art
art
my spirit and my art
beauty in things that are still and understanding they are never static
remembering the lyrics to songs from thirty years ago and longer
Katy told me she remember’s me singing you are my sunshine to her and I remember that from my mother
and itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini and joni mitichell
yes joni mitchell who says she is the last century’s best poet and she may be right
being able to see the good in most things and trying even if I can’t see it believing it still may be there
Jen
alex
katy
bailey
and now jason too embraced by marriage to jen
and books, the books that i loved and the books that inspired and educated me and the ones that i couldnt bear and couldnt bear to put down
and Orion and the Seven Sisters
and the big dipper that means north
and vermont
also north
and poetry that resonates throughout the ages
and my language
that connects me to it and comes through me connecting me to it
and Bailey dancing and getting dizzy and Alex writng to me that I am a great mother and Katy who keeps getting up and Jen who keeps loving us even though she deeply feels all of our imperfections
and London
and Glasgow and Edinborough
and Betty who said right here right now and her adoring husband, Uncle Pat who said I know why I like you, you are a poor kid from the streets, like me
like me he said
and Else who keeps making us casseroles and Lydia and Erica who are growing up too fast, who still in this season are trying to learn somersaults and who know how to talk on the phone now
and quilts which I have made for all my life and will keep making to comfort me and if they can also comfort others then so be it and clothes to give me armor and illusion and fantasy of another time and other possibilties-clothes are very powerful you know.
and the sweater that was knitted and the one I will unknit and remake for a new daughter and she will not know it was from then, not knowing herself what then was before she was born but knowing as we all know without knowing
and inspired food
a fire in a fireplace
or the memory of one in Upwey, in 1971-is that specific enough or too specific?
and the seventies those most defining and uproarious years that did allow me to escape from my dubious beginnings, and did scar me too in that re birth
o this has turned into some list of things and only just scratched the surface
only just

felted bag two

Here is latest finished project. I decided I need to finish it yesterday because this week is filling up with meetings and other not fun things.The roses are pinned (if they are Too Much, they can be removed and the bag will be more sedate)(And you can pin one onto your denim jacket)on & the handles are from MJTrim.com. The fabric for the lining and ribbon, I bought at Hidreth's in Southampton. The pattern is a Nonibag.
My anxiety level is at about four, the teeth grinding stage. Stage five is pacing about and realizing I need to breathe. This is why I smoked all those years -to facilitate breathing. Stage six is numbness. Seven is not managable-need drugs. I have not gotten to stage seven in years except in bad dreams from which I emerge, not knowing where I am, bathed in sweat, heart racing.Well that has not happened in quite some time.
Tomorrow meeting with special ed committee. Today perhaps I will write a synopsis for the new guy, about what we have been through with the school district for the last several years. Then we will try to fit my round peg daughter into their square peg inflexible irrational arbitrary illegal blah de blah system. I am not hopeful. I just want to get through the day with out another crisis. Hard to imagine for the parent of a bi polar kid: no crisis, no emergency call rom the school, from the kid, from the police station, from the emergency room.
I just want her in school long enough to escape the legal consequences for not being there. I don't give a rat's ass if she aquires their cereal boxed education. It is more than inadequate- it is ludicrously ironic. Enough.
I am sewing like a madwoman, chasing away the rage, making beauty out of small bits of incongruent, mysterious matter. That is art.
Each one of those words can be parsed and books can be written about their meaning and consequence. I don't care. I am an artist. I work with content, only musing on the meaning when I imagine seeing through someone else's eyes. Ah there you have it -another dimension, another impossible dichotomy. Like Twister for the Empirisists.

Large works....and small ones

Here are some better pictures of the quilt top and back that I am sending to be machine quilted. I am eager to see it finished. The newly weds are happy too. I do love to make huge things.
I am almost finished with my Emma Doll clothes and ready to begin work on my Queen Anne doll kit from Gail Wilson.
Have a new felted bag ready to be cast on for my friend's sister and sister in law.
HHHmmmm what is next? I am running out of new projects:)
Skipping along merrily....

Day in Greenport-Yarn Sale!

Went to green port and had a lovely day, watching the kids on the carousel, eating at the new barbeque place-good sour dough rolls with pulled pork topped by a mound of cole slaw.
I bought some yarn for a new Noni bag-this one will be with a third strand of mohair. I also bought some yarn for a lace shawl-deisgn to be determined, and four hanks of ten ply yarn to make a shawl collar sweater for moi. I do have a way of finding things to do. O yes.
After dinner we stopped for coofee in my favorite coffee place in Greenport and we were treated to some delightful playing and singing. I got a picture and said hi and thanks. Such a nice interlude. Much appreciated.

pictures and stuff

Working on the backing for the wedding quilt. First I have to make the block and then decide if i want to use them. O well. I am using stash and may end up with another quilt back.
Breakfast featuring Mike's secret way of making sure the butter melts, now shown in public for the first time!!!
Alex on his porch in New Paltz.