suddenly warm

 

a woodland themed towel from Debra!

I figure that normal temperatures for this time of year should be in the mid-fifties. Not this week, though! It is going to be in the eighties for a few days, so here we go, trying to get some more variety in the closet.

I finished my skirt, which is just an a-line with elastic waist - very basic. Now I want to make a dress with some thrifted fabric.

the Mr. Kibble statue holding down the pattern piece

It's a soft brushed cotton, a very small pine green and beige check. I was able to mark it with a piece of soap, since the colors were dark enough to show it up. 

Here's my inspiration, stolen off the internet from here

I cut out a bodice piece from a dress pattern I have, and sleeves from another. I'd like mine a little longer, like below the elbow. I've been trying to figure if I want to interline the bodice to give it more structure, or just line it. I think I'll just line it. I hope it will be something useful! One doesn't always know how a thing will come out, or how well it will fit. It is a bit girlish, but I hope that won't be a problem. 

hopefulness

 There are icicles everywhere. Riding along, you see scads of them, hanging on almost every building. I don't know why some buildings don't have them. It's very cold all the time, but when the sun is bright, I guess there is some melting, because these things are lengthening by the day.

I had finished knitting the hand warmers and gave them to my friend, but I'm knitting another pair with the same yarn. She wears them over thin knitted gloves, and the basic bind-off I use doesn't have any give, really - they could be a little less tight at the opening, and since I have more of the yarn, and they're easy to make, I'm knitting another pair with a different bind-off, and it does seem better. I have a book that's just cast-ons and bind-offs, and it's very handy. Sometimes you buy books you think it would be good to have, and they just accumulate and you wonder why you bought them, but I'm happy I bought this one. 

A year ago, I received a book of Coleridge's poems, which I'd asked for, but they haven't really clicked with me. I enjoyed Malcolm Guite's Mariner, so I guess I'm more interested in the man than in his poetry. But I do like this one which I read today:

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair -
The bees are stirring - birds are on the wing -
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, o ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.

- Work Without Hope, composed Feb 21st, 1825

And we know from Emily Dickinson, don't we, that hope's the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

finishing up with the holidays

 Our snow has been gone for a while; the temperatures are in the forties - a January thaw, I guess. There may be a snowstorm brewing for Thursday, but it's too soon to know any of the "ifs": if the storm develops, if it comes our way or goes another. 

I sewed up two panels of red plaid fabric, lined, and clipped them up in the bathroom for curtains. 

I like the sort-of rustic air of plaid, and I hung this wooden ornament on the rod, between the panels. 

I heard mention of The 39 Steps, by John Buchan, on a podcast, so I got a copy of it. A short book, written in 1915, it kept me turning the pages. A man-on-the-run story, written in that very matter of fact style that was more common - well, I was going to say "back then", but I was thinking of the style of Raymond Chandler, and he came later. I mean that plain way of just describing everything without all the emotionalism which saturates the stories of our own day. It's rather refreshing for a change, and I'm going to try the next in the series, called Greenmantle. 

I've been putting away some of the more obviously Christmasy things, but it all takes time. I am in no rush to get rid of Christmas. In recent years, we've had our holiday party afterward, because it's easier to relax and take the time for it. So, I got together with my co-workers the other day and it was very nice. To see young men enjoying the company of older guys and vice versa - it was great. We have a good group.

on the fourth day of Christmas

 I'm enjoying the Christmas rest. We had snow again, on Friday, all night. It's been mostly cold, with a warm day every now and then to throw us off. But the roads were clear for our trip to Joanne's on Christmas Day. It will rain tomorrow and melt everything, and winter will have to start over again.

I got a surprise from England - dear Clare sent me chocolates! (They're almost gone, Clare - already.) 

There seems to be a cat coming to the shelter at night; my brother suspected it, and then I saw him cross the bridge and come through the back yard on Monday, an hour before dark. He jumped onto our back step and looked up at the back door window! I was looking out but, strangely, he didn't notice me - he  seemed to be looking at the curtain - he was being very cautious. He didn't want to be seen. So we're trying to use the front door after sunset, but I worked late on Tuesday and forgot - I heard a hurried scrambling and am afraid I scared him away. He seems to still be using the place, because the food gets eaten, but it may be he's coming later. Poor creature, to be so afraid of us! Where did he come from? 

For lo! the days are hastening on,
by prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever circling years
shall come the time foretold
When peace shall over all the earth
its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world send back the song
which now the angels sing.

- Edmund Hamilton, It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

wool gathering

 

I finished tying the baby quilt today, and it's washed and ready for my friend's little one. I tied it on the "wrong" side, as the floral is so busy - I thought it would just add to it. This gives the whiteness and bit of interest, and hopefully conceal the tasselly ends from their cat - I know how that can be!

Gretchen had asked me what I'm going to knit next, and I thought maybe a shawl, but a friend told me the fingerless mitts I'd made for her years ago finally wore out. So, I ordered yarn to make another pair and am waiting for it to arrive. I remember enjoying making them back then. Let's see if I can do it again without too much head-scratching!

I've been going through my old British Country Living magazines - I kept three issues for each month, not being able to part with them. Until now, but I'm cutting out anything which appeals to me, and putting it all in red folders, one for each month. This will take up way less room! There's a magazine swap bin at the library so they can go there if they aren't too cut up.. A woman named Sally Coulthard had a column every month; she's got a farm and animals and she does country things. Then I saw a book review, of a book she wrote about sheep. I found a copy in a nearby library, and was amazed to find a list of books by her on the back flap - she's written many books! Here are a few. So I guess she's really a writer who also has a farm. 

Anyway, she did lots of research and the book is very interesting. The one I saw in the magazine is called A Short History of the World According to Sheep. The one I have is called Follow the Flock. It has to be the same book. It seems the ancient Scythians were the ones who really mastered the use of felt and they would carry their sheep when they moved around, strapped to the backs of the horses. And, did you know the Romans' shields were covered in felt?  Pliny said, "wool is compressed also for making felt, which when soaked in vinegar is capable of even resisting iron..."  I wonder how true that is.

the maker and keeper of our days

 O God, you search me and you know me.
All my thoughts lie open to your gaze.
When I walk or lie down you are before me:
Ever the maker and keeper of my days.

You know my resting and my rising.
You discern my purpose from afar,
And with love everlasting you besiege me:
In ev'ry moment of life or death, you are.

little Orphan Annie

Before a word is on my tongue, Lord,
You have known its meaning through and through.
You are with me beyond my understanding:
God of my present, my past and future, too.

Sweetie

Although your spirit is upon me,
Still I search for shelter from your light.
There is nowhere on earth I can escape you:
Even the darkness is radiant in your sight.

Daisy

For you created me and shaped me,
Gave me life within my mother's womb.

Mr. Kibble

For the wonder of who I am, I praise you:

Safe in your hands, all creation is made new.*

Dolly and Henry

* words by Bernadette Farrell

a little pilgrimage

 We went on a little field trip to the cathedral in the city, a pilgrimage. 

I had been there for Sunday mass a few times - it's a modern-looking place. But I learned something years ago from watching Sister Wendy's art series on tv. You can just say you don't like a certain painting, or artist, or style, or you can learn something about it, the history of it, and at least have an appreciation and a respect for it. And so, I went on this bus ride with a little group from church. 

old bishop's crozier

A cheerful and friendly priest met us there, and took us all around in an unhurried way, showing us all sorts of things I hadn't seen before. It must have taken an hour, but I didn't look at my watch.

this sort of thing always seems medieval to me - not sure why

The stained glass was all made in France.

It wasn't all so modern, though.

There were a few of these along the sides.

These windows do not have metal in between the colors, as most do, but concrete. The original church was destroyed by a fire, and they were determined to make this new place as fireproof as possible. The pews are wood, but that's about all.

Fr. M. was a well-informed guide. There are several side chapels, and he pointed out some patterns in the marble floor.

This is not a whimsical addition, but a real snail fossil in the stone! 

 St. Patrick has one of the little chapels.

 This statue seems quite old to me -

this is in the sacristy

This is behind the altar

I find it touching. Judgment Day.

the Just Judge

He heard confessions afterward, and then it was time for the noon mass. 

And home, with quiet spirits.

"The jubilee calls for us to set out on a journey and to cross boundaries. When we travel, we do not only change place physically, but we also change ourselves."

sshhhh

 We've seen a rabbit outside under the bird feeder, the past two nights, eating seed. The snow is crusty and hard, the days and nights are frigid and they are hungry. My brother bought timothy hay at Agway, and put some out there, and the rabbit came tonight. I was about to get the dryer going, but decided to wait - the noise and steam might send him away. 

Just trying to help.

keeping it all together

 Well, my time off has been lovely; a friend was over for lunch Wednesday. But then yesterday I felt like I might be coming down with something and I've been resting a lot these two days. It could be allergies, or even resulting from too many late nights and still waking up early - it does catch up with one.

I've grabbed a Jane Austen mystery for entertainment, the fourth one. I tend to forget the murderer's identity when I re-read a mystery, and just enjoy the writing. 

I desperately needed a new bedspread or quilt - whatever. I ended up getting a duvet cover. I don't have a duvet - all these European words that we didn't used to use; I always called it a comforter, or puff - I've got plenty of quilts, throws and blankets, and don't need or want one. My intention in buying this was to stuff it with quilt batting and machine-stitch it. When it arrived, I gave up the idea. It is so tightly woven, like a quality sheet, that it would be a pain to work with in that way. I love it as us, and just lay it over the bed. It's so pretty, and I got it on sale.

The colors blend harmoniously with the overall scheme of the house, which I'm trying harder to stick to.

"One can do nothing, you know, without one pays homage to the genius of the place."

                                           -   from Jane and the Genius of the Place, by Stephanie Barron

summer day

 It rained, heavily, a while ago. I think it's going to be drier after this - the air, I mean. This week we've had a reprieve from the high heat, but it was more humid that before, so the air conditioning was still in use. What would we do without the weather to complain about? But I won't have to water the plants outside.

The Yearling is so enjoyable and I'm surprised at it. Well, these people had a hard life, so "enjoyable" is not the best word, but the writing just brings you along smoothly and willingly. I've noticed it basically consists of lots of short, almost abrupt sentences, which doesn't sound good, does it? But it doesn't seem to matter, it's just her style and it works well. 

"Jody went around the side of the house and took down the milk-gourd from the wall. He felt as light as the gourd. It seemed to him in his liberation that he might spread his arms and float over the gate like a feather. The dawn was still nebulous. A mocking-bird made a thin metallic sound in the chinaberry. The Dominick rooster crowed uncertainly. This was the hour at which Penny arose, allowing Jody to sleep a little later. The morning was still, with a faint fluttering of breeze through the tops of the tall pine trees. The sunrise reached long fingers into the clearing. As he clicked the lotgate, doves flew from the pines with a whistling of wings."

                                               -  Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

I'm thinking of making a plain summer top, something simple that takes a yard or slightly more of fabric, like the One Yard Minimalist Top on Etsy; I have to look around to see if I've got something here. 

This morning I looked down and Daisy was playing with her reddish ball in the kitchen. Honestly, it did try to get through my subconscious that there isn't a red ball, but not quite - anyway, I picked it up to toss into the living room, but - it was a little tomato! That one in the photo above. Yeah, trying to get things off the counter, but it doesn't always work out. Which reminds me: the last time I cleaned the counter, I put some stuff on the table - she was sleeping somewhere. After a while, I turned and she was sitting on the wooden cutting board! I almost tossed it immediately, but I actually Never use it for cutting, we have something else. So, I sprayed with vinegar, etc., and scrubbed. It's mainly useful for resting a large, hot pan on it. So, it's still with us, but if I ever think it may be used for cutting by anyone, it will go into the trash. 

Yeah, she's cute. She was looking into my eyes earlier, and so earnestly, that you can't be angry for long. She tries to belong, she tries to understand, she tries to be good, I'm sure. But for some reason she can't figure it out. Annie does not look deeply into the eyes, she is a simpler being. But she's also a lovely cat. They're good companions for each other and for us.

I am very slowly going through The Distant Mirror, about the 14th century in Europe. I picked it up today, and was surprised:

"Long before Columbus, they knew the world was a globe, a knowledge proceeding from familiarity with the movement of the stars, which could be made comprehensible only in terms of a spherical earth. It was said by the cleric Gautier de Metz in his Image du Monde, the most widely read encyclopedia of the time, that a man could go around the world as a fly makes the tour of an apple... Visually, people pictured the universe held in God's arms with man at its center. It was understood that the moon was the nearest planet, with no light of its own, that an eclipse was the passage of the moon between the earth and the sun; that rain was moisture drawn by the sun from the earth which condensed into clouds and fell back as rain; that the shorter the time between thunder and lightning, the nearer the source."

                                                     -   Barbara Tuchman

another Memorial Day

 It rained much of the day - it's pouring now - so I imagine the parades were cancelled. There were no military plane flyovers, which I always look forward to. We still had our little celebration, though. And I've got some Italian bean and butternut squash seedlings.

BIRCHINGTON CHURCHYARD

A lowly hill which overlooks a flat,
Half sea, half country side;
A flat-shored sea of low-voiced creeping tide
Over a chalky weedy mat.

A hill of hillocks, flowery and kept green
Round Crosses raised for hope,
With many-tinted sunsets where the slope
Faces the lingering western sheen.

A lowly hope, a height that is but low,
While Time sets solemnly,
While the tide rises of Eternity,
Silent and neither swift nor slow.

-  Christina Rossetti

a good Thanksgiving

 

O give thanks to the Lord for he is good, for his love endures forever.

                                      - from  Psalm 136

"manifold and changing business"

 Another weekend with rain; it's a sure thing, every weekend there seems to be a tropical storm in the Atlantic that passes by (not too close, though!) and we get wet. 

I noticed over the whole summer that our rabbit friend comes out in light rain or afterward, when the grass is cool and wet. And today, I saw one near the hedge out my window this morning, and again in late afternoon, just sitting there quietly. They like it. Or, I should say that this one likes it.

It was raining here. 

A moment later, and he was gone. Which was just as well, for one of Dianne's cats came by, sniffing around. He may be getting too old to chase rabbits, and just wants to snoop around; I hope. I like seeing these little neighbors. 

I suppose the local cats are also our neighbors, but in a different way - they have a home. 

There is a very interesting quote today on the Trappist monks' blog, something from Robert Louis Stevenson. But even though I've linked it, I want to put it here:

"the Trappist world appeals to me as a model of wisdom...so infinitesimally is the day divided among different occupations. The man who keeps rabbits, for example, hurries from his hutches to the chapel, or the chapter-room, or the refectory, all day long: every hour he has an office to sing, a duty to perform; from two, when he rises in the dark, till eight, when he returns to receive the comforting gift of sleep, he is upon his feet and occupied with manifold and changing business. I know many persons, worth several thousands in the year, who are not so fortunate in the disposal of their lives...We speak of hardships, but the true hardship is to be a dull fool, and permitted to mismanage life in our own dull and foolish manner."

My apologies to the monks for stealing their blogpost on the day they posted it. 

Meanwhile, I am trying to get away from regular wheat flour, and am re-doing some favorite recipes with gluten-free mix, einkorn flour, spelt, buckwheat, rye, or mixtures of these. It's interesting and unpredictable. 

an overdue visit

 Hurricane Ophelia has been passing by at a distance, and so there's been a couple of rainy days here. I spent some time today switching out some paintings and other knick-knacky things for the season. I can finish another day.

We drove out a way for lunch at some friends' house - my brother was their best man, years ago. They have a lovely home, and I forgot to take my camera along. The closet space in these newer homes is astounding! - but a very nice visit in an old-fashioned and picturesque part of their town. They prayed such a nice grace before the meal, with Bob saying the prayer, but Darlene frequently mm-hmming in agreement; it was so heartfelt.

They have a collection of colored glass bottles here and there - some of them older but not worth much, some in the dark brownish-green, and from around the Revolutionary War period. I've always liked colored glass. We knew an elderly woman when I was a child; she owned a Victorian-era house and had knick knacks on every end table. I loved going there. It wasn't until much later that I began to appreciate having fewer things to deal with when dusting. But Bob and Darlene didn't have too much, but a good balance.

"The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control."

                                                 - Galatians 5:22-23

a real September day

 A true September day - the stillness of it. I can hear insects repeating themselves in the way they do, but otherwise, it's quiet. No breeze, bright sun. It's beginning to feel like fall. There were asters growing inside the hydrangea and I left them too long; now, instead of rooting them out, all I could do was cut, but at least I was outside for a while.

The online book group is going to discuss H.G. Wells' The First Men in the Moon, and a strange story it is. At this early stage, it seems like a cautionary tale: don't let an over-excited person suck you into their schemes. But I'll reserve judgment in case it takes a turn in another direction.

I made the honey spice cake today for my Jewish friend, and was looking for a container to put the cut-up pieces in, when I remembered these -

Debra gave me a set of six of these foil pans with the beautiful hare design.

Speaking of haired creatures, there's someone who always wants to run in and watch me clean the bathroom sink, tail either hanging over the edge or curled neatly around her.

I know I've mentioned it before. What she has started doing is to chew on any tissues which stick out of the box. That means stuffing it all back inside after pulling one out. What next?

the power of two

 I'm reading The Man Who Was Thursday, by G.K. Chesterton. Our main character is in a dangerous situation, but thought he was quite alone, only to discover he has an ally, after all.

"It may be conceded to the mathematicians that four is twice two. But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one. That is why, in spite of a hundred disadvantages, the world will always return to monogamy."

"God bless you, and give you health, strength, good spirits, and as much of life as you think worth having."

The above is a quote from Thomas Jefferson, in a letter to John Adams. More of that later.

I had a cute pillow from the thrift store, from which I'd removed the ugly cover. Underneath, the stuffing was encased in something which wasn't real fabric, and it disintegrated, so I grabbed the nearest piece of cotton to me the other day and whipped up a new cover.

It's a permanent cover, but I still want to make a removable one. 

So I'm done with the Adams-Jefferson letters. Their mutual affection was remarkable, and the sign-offs in their correspondence always touching.

I hope [your health] is restored; and that life and health may be continued to you as many years as yourself shall wish is the sincere prayer of your affectionate and respectful friend.

                                        - Jefferson, Jan. 11, 1817

...I am still unalterably your Friend,  J. Adams

                                       May 21, 1819

I...repeat always with truth the assurances of my constant and affectionate friendship and respect.

                                                - Jefferson, June 27, 1822

I most sincerely congratulate you on the recovery of your hand, and am your friend for this, and, I hope, and believe, for all future Worlds.

                                             - Adams, Feb. 10, 1823

...I add sincere assurances of my unabated, and constant attachment, friendship and respect.

                                                         - Jefferson, Oct. 12, 1823

I have lost your last letter to me, the most consolatory letter I ever received in my life. What would I not give for a copy of it. Your friend for all eternity.

                                                 - Adams, April 19, 1825  (the letter was a congratulation on the occasion of the election of John Quincy Adams to the Presidency)

July 4th

 "While you live, I seem to have a bank at Monticello on which I can draw for a letter of friendship and entertainment when I please.

I know not how to prove physically that we shall meet and know each other in a future state, nor does revelation, as I can find give us any positive assurance of such a felicity. My reasons for believing it, as I do, most undoubtingly are all moral and divine."

                                                           - John Adams, in a letter to Thomas Jefferson, Dec. 8, 1818

they both died on this date, in 1826

strawberry season

 Juicy strawberries from the farmers' market, courtesy of a very nice friend.

the Gardner Museum

 There is a fine art museum in Boston, the Isabella Stewart Gardner. I went with a friend. We'd tried going a few years back; got there, it was closed. It was a Tuesday. We hadn't thought to look it up first - museums aren't ordinarily closed on Tuesdays. The Museum of Fine Arts was open! Anyway.

My brother told me to look for the John Singer Sargent painting - you know the one, he said - of the lady with her arm stretched out. Sargent might be his favorite painter, and I'm sure I've seen many of his works, but I wasn't sure I'd seen this one. Anyway, it was right there when we entered the place.

"borrowed" from the internet

It's big! 

Anyway, I've long wanted to see this museum. In 1990, two fellows dressed as police officers got security to let them in. They tied him up and took thirteen (I think) works of art from the place in the space of 81 minutes. Nothing has been found. 

I had stumbled on a podcast in 2018 which delved into the theft. It was excellently done, in thirteen episodes. It's called Last Seen, and it's still going, I guess, on other subjects, but this was the first. 

I had an idea of the museum, probably from the photo linked above. I wanted to see the empty frames - how dramatic of them, to leave them empty like that! I didn't realize how chock full of stuff this place is, which isn't apparent in this photo. It was her home, and the architectural part was just as appealing to me as the artwork within. 

The arches and the bell were also near the entrance. They set the tone for my expectations. 

Imagine living amid such drama.

Anyway, we went first to the cafe and had lunch. Mine was a little quiche, with roasted cauliflower, onions and gruyere. A frisee salad with sliced red grapes and a bit of farro. All very nice! And a chocolate sort of pudding with berries on top for dessert. Quite satisfying.

There is stuff everywhere you turn, and lots of it is religious: tapestries, carvings, some *very* old. Things that should still be in churches. 

we noticed how shiny and clean this was, and were sure our excellent custodian at the library would care for it just as well

The thieves took some things by Degas, a Manet, a Chinese vase or urn, an eagle finial from the time of Napoleon, two Rembrandts and a Vermeer and a couple of other items. Yes, Rembrandt and Vermeer. I don't know about you, but they are definitely two of my favorites! 

This is supposed to be a Rembrandt portrait of a married couple, A Lady and Gentleman in Black.

from the internet

And this is the frame which contained his only seascape, Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee.

It would have been nice to see that one. Here it is:

It would be nice, wouldn't it? Where is it now, I wonder? They were sliced out of their frames!

And the Vermeer; there are so few of them. I took the photo so I'd be reflected in the glass. 

I like to see the Rembrandt self-portrait to the right in this photo. They did take one of his self-portraits, but a sketch. He did plenty of those. 

The Vermeer -

The Concert

The podcast presented a fascinating story, very well done, if you're interested. 

There were guards everywhere; I couldn't carry my jacket over my arm, it wasn't allowed. I was too warm, but had to wear it. Did I mention that there was no security system in 1990? Only a guard, but no electronics. Incredible. 

These signs were on everything, but almost nothing was labeled. Maybe a handful of items! We would have liked to know what we were looking at! Well, they did have the QR codes, and we did use that a couple of times. Finally, a guard told us that the lack of labelling was because she didn't want things to be labelled - it was a home. And nothing is ever to be moved, or rearranged. That's why the empty frames.

There is a long room with a dining table which can be rented for your event. And there's a wonderful garden, in an atrium, I guess. Full of foxglove and what looked like pink hydrangea. Isn't it early for those? 

I had to jump up the color on these, because my camera didn't capture the fabulousness of the garden.

We weren't allowed in. But oh, you couldn't look at the place without wishing you could get in! (my brother said when he went, they let people in)

Anyway, we took our time, were there about four hours, and loved all of it. I bought a few things in the gift shop, of course, including a book about Mrs. Gardner, which so far is very interesting.  If you're ever in Boston, by all means, stop and see this fabulous place.