the scent of water

I have 15 minutes in which to write a post, make a cup of tea, and check there's nothing grimy stuck in my teeth before we go out.

 

I don't mean to bring you down with the picture of Arthur's headstone.  He was born on the same day as Iona, only 139 years earlier.  I wonder what his story was?  For certain it was a much too short one.

It's a pretty place he's come to rest in, nestled between the library and the public gardens.  I like how he's still there, in the middle of life, saying hello to the toddler's reading groups, the kids on school outings, the truant high schoolers, the lonely retirees.  I don't suppose my gravestone will be so lucky.

It's been nearly six months since my sewing machine broke. Just so you know.

Thanks for the inspiration

 

 

The longer I live the more beautiful life becomes. If you foolishly ignore beauty, you will soon find yourself without it. Your life will be impoverished. But if you invest in beauty, it will remain with you all the days of your life.   ~ Frank Lloyd Wright

1. Me, mom::Tara, 2. grace, 3. kid season has started, 4. yielding..., 5. Peony Bud, 6. morning tea, 7. red+white, 8. mirror's reflection, 9. decorations

Goodness, is that the time?

I could have sworn that last week was only a day or two ago.  Life is busy.  This is good.  But still; busy.

 

I'm enjoying playing around with silver.  Have no idea if it will someday become more than that - sometimes I think that would be fun, but then I get a little knot of angst in my stomach and decide that playing is enough for now. 

I wear the chain wrapped around my wrist as a double bracelet.  I'm not entirely sure what I think of it, but for certain no-one else in the world has one exactly like it.  Take that, mass-productionism.

I've been playing with wool too.  Snow on the hills will do that to a girl.

I daydream quite a lot.

 

I was quite happy to stick to my metaphorical knitting and just focus on learning to make jewellery for the time being, but then Kirsten's paper crane pattern and Maya's new adventures in spinning got me all yarn-wanty.  That's a word, isn't it?

 

I started making these last year, intending to wear them as protection against the cold southern wind while hanging out my washing (along with, in my imagination, a floaty floral cotton dress whipping gently against brown leather boots, wispy pigtails, starched linen apron and a worn homespun cardi.  There is snow on the hills in the distant background and a man in uniform walks slowly down the long driveway, while a small child watches out the window, face half hidden by a torn lace curtain...)

 

Eilidh has appropriated these for herself as they turned out to be too small for me (I will learn to swatch one day, really I will), which in turn means that another pair are now on the needles so Iona can have some too.  Otherwise life as we know it may well come to an end, and that's not something I am keen to be responsible for.

If you want some for yourself, the pattern is here.  They really are very pretty.  As is this new-to-me blog, Greedy for Colour.  With a name like that, how could I resist a visit?

It's as close as we get to snow

 

I didn't even hear the hail when it came down yesterday morning.  I was too busy lazing in bed, enjoying every second of Mother's Day.  I have managed to convince my family that Mother's Day is synonomous with me not having to do anything at all, not a thing, nada, zip.  I know, good work me.

The kids froze, and played, and froze, and collected hail, and froze.  For what purpose, I still have no idea.  Perhaps, just maybe, not everything needs a purpose.

Promise

 

We must always change, renew, rejuvenate ourselves; otherwise we harden. ~  Johann von Goethe

1. 200906May_0188 copy, 2. A garden party, 3. Chrysanthemum, 4. Roid Week 2009, 5. And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin, 6. Gift From Her Garden II, 7. there were so many roses, 8. barrel-flowers, 9. one trick pony

Two rings

First day at jewellery class today.  Every Thursday for 8 weeks I am taking the time to learn a little silversmithing.  It's something I've been wanting to do for so long, but could never justify the time and/or expense.  But New Megan says that following a heart's desire is reason enough.

Oh, fun.  These two rings above were just strips of flat metal a few hours ago.  I hammered and soldered and hammered and polished and hammered.  Are they perfect?  Not even a little.  In fact, I'll probably take them back next week to fix them up to half respectable.  Even so.  Oh, fun.

I inscribed the inside of the thick ring with 'finis'.  I've always wanted a ring with that word on it (true story) ever since I read Viktor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning".  He used the word in the context that things aren't finished until they're over (i.e. just keep moving).  I don't know why this appeals to me so strongly, but it does.

'Grace' is the word I chose for the smaller ring, because unmerited favour is something I will absolutely take as much of as I can get.

Breakfast*

 

My niece turns 20 next Thursday; I'm bringing dessert. I've been trying to think of something that would be both girly and grown-up and wondered if rose icecream might be a contender.

Yum. Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum.

The plan is to freeze the icecream in melon ball sizes, dip it in chocolate, and re-freeze. Then, I don't know, maybe decorate with sugared violets?  I think I'm just going to have to do some more trial runs...

*Not kidding. If you're going to have to eat first thing in the morning, it might as well be something spectacular.

When I first read this poem, it felt like he'd written it especially for me.

 

 

ADVICE

Robert Crawford

 

When you are faced with two alternatives

Choose both.  And should they put you to the test,

Tick every box.  Nothing is ever single.

A seed’s a tree’s a ship’s a constellation.

Nail your true colours to this branching mast.

1. Wattle, 2. pink clothes, 3. blood orange, 4. Tea from E