Welcome St. Patrick!!

 

Bring us green! Finally, Narcissus.

For me, the austerity of Lent goes with winter, but dear St. Patrick, why give up anything more than flowers? 


A Point of View in Winter

March is a long month here. Down east, spring has already budded, but here, folks are still cooking hearty meals and careful about when to get outside. There is some gradual greening, but against a yellow-brown backdrop of hibernating hills and a leafless tree-line. Perennials are dormant, most underground and invisible. We are told not to plant because "there'll be another frost," maybe even a hard freeze. "Just hold off," they say, "till about Mother's Day." 



Hoarfrost on a distant mountain-top


I've learned that the last snow days are not as romantic and festive as the first few, but I've also learned that if I will just get outdoors, or sit by a window and look out, there is color and texture everywhere. I get inspired to pull out fabrics and create something. Each year, I try to make at least one treasure I can keep; it's become a tradition.



Wall-hanging for Christmas





This tradition began when my friend Sherry brought her sewing machine for a longer-than-usual winter visit. The visit was to be longer because she was fighting Hairy-cell Leukemia with chemotherapy and trying to stay away from crowds of people while her white cell count was down.
 

 
She brought the sewing machine because she was busy making heirloom treasures for her daughter, Nicole whose wedding was to be held in August, under our cherry tree. We spent a lot of time outdoors that winter walking and studying the colors and textures of the landscape. Sherry was upbeat, postive and cheerful. She was also busy creating beautiful things.
 


Sherry working on an appliqued quilt.



Frozen Pond



Puple and Ochre Near Tracks in the Snow

My Wall-hanging for Valentine's Day



Sherry's Wedding Shawl for Nicole with the Cherry Tree in the Background



Gift-bags made out of a pair of old jeans.


Lately I've enjoyed scheduling Sew-Days with another group of friends. We call ourselves (mostly all Scotch-Irish descendants) the Creekies, because we all live on or near Helton Creek in Ashe County. It's the old sewing bee renewed. 


Creekies, with a healthy Sherry visiting 8 years later

 

Snow Melt



We think of something to work on, gather fabrics and trims, spread it all out and start combining things. Even friends who have never sewn a stitch like to match colors, cut patterns, and iron the seams flat. Three of us who sew put our machines on various sides of the long dining room table and piece things together. Someone puts out food and serves beverages, and we have fellowship of a priceless kind. Then we take home small treasures to give away. Last year, we made gift bags and this year pillow-cases.



Gift Bags for Special Occasions







Small Pillowcase for a Grandchild


Yesterday, as I was looking for inspiration in the library, two new titles caught my eye. The first was about how friends and family impact your life, and I felt happy that I have learned that lesson. The other I checked out and brought home, Peaceful Pieces, Poems and Quilts about Peace. I recommend it for the beautiful words and pictures, especially if you read to children. (Click on the title to see the book.)

St. Patrick is known for his way of teaching Christianity to the pagan tribes of Ireland by successfully incorporating nature and familiar traditions. So, here is my tribute to St. Patrick as I wait for the greening of Spring and the blooming of Easter. I keep hearing, "It'll be here before you know it!"




Table-runner for Easter



 
 

Making Memories

This year, Thanksgiving was on my birthday, a gift like no other. Family and friends present with me, laughing, creating and playing, eating and taking long walks. There is no better gift than that. One Facebook friend posted with a wink symbol: "The whole country is preparing special meals today and having parades in your honor." I chuckled. Had that been true, I couldn't have been happier or more grateful than for the simple, fun days we had.

We got to spend it here at the farm, Traylor and I with our two daughters, Caroline and Clara, and with Jon and Sherry Launt, our good friends who were once Charlotte neighbors for twenty-two years.  It seems that small gatherings of family and friends bring special memories because each person brings unique gifts and talents.

Caroline raised the bar on fitness this year wanting half raw foods and daily exercise.  She surprised me with a card that melted my heart. Clara brought her need to laugh and some jars of orange and green putty that made farting noises when squashed. She had the energy to keep playing with the dogs when everyone else was ready for a nap. Both daughters insisted on playing Taboo, the simple game that makes us laugh until we cry, a game they love because as partners, they always win.

Sherry brought gifts of food and wine, a table runner and coasters to use for holidays to come and shared her talent for sewing those gifts--handmade and useful items--which got my creative juices flowing. Jon brought his gift of words to express his wise attitude of humble gratitude.

And what is life without animals? There was Cappuccino, our cat of 16 years and our two rat terriers, Bandit and Rudy. Clara's rat terrier, Stella, lives here and the Launt's brought their large red-brown Australian Shepherd, Kiwi. Dogs that curl around us and keep us warm or bound around us on our long walks enrich us daily.

Traylor suggested that we not cook, but have our meal at the River House Country Inn and Restaurant where our special friends served the traditional turkey, dressing, and gravy, green vegetables, creamed onions, cranberry relish and pumpkin bread pudding. On the way, I sang, "Over the river and through the woods to Gayle Winston's house we go." Traylor's sister Ruth joined us for the meal, making the day just right. It was all such fun.

As Jon remembered those who could not be with us, I thought of my mother who is now well-cared for and happy at Morningside of Auburn and Traylor and Ruth's mom who recently moved to a nursing home. Each year, we make unique memories and then the next year brings something new and different.

What will next year bring? Who won't be here to make new memories? It could be any of us; it could be me. If this were to be my last Thanksgiving, then let it be said, I have been blessed and I am grateful.