Monthly Archives: October 2013

Autumn color

These hydrangeas spend their summer in cool blue bloom, then change their wardrobe with the season just like magic!

Our trees tend to be a bit monochromatic fading into pale green and gold or just oak brown so I really enjoy the lasting color changing in these plants to compliment them.

We had a glorious drive to a farm stand through fields of grains harvested and fields of soybeans and fields corn still waiting. And although we went for apples, it was the pumpkins and other squash that steal the show with color and form. White, orange, blue, pink…

Pink!

And such shapes to stir imaginations – Cinderella’s pumpkin – ah, for a fairy godmother to touch this one!

Back in our own yard, I find a few soft golden fern fronds.

Sarah Helen Whitman wrote A Still Day in Autumn, it begins –

I love to wander through the woodlands hoary, In the soft light of an autumnal day, When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And, like a dream of beauty, glides away.

And so October ends and the freshness of a new month stretches out before us bringing ever changing days.

Vintage stitching

I decided to share my vintage crewel work because this bird always makes me laugh. A dodo, I presume, showing off under the Tree of Life design.

Needle and thread comfort

When I was quite young, I learned a few embroidery stitches. I think perhaps my older sister or a Scout leader taught me. In our community we had a five and dime type store where for a small expenditure a carefully chosen dresser scarf or doily type of piece, stamped with a design and some thread, were mine. I would walk home dreaming of the beauty soon to come but all too often I simply created knots and tangled thread made lumps inspiring the dreaded – “Let me see the back of your work.” tsk, tsk.

It was a terrible discouragement but there was something about the desire to make something beautiful which drew me. Eventually the soft wool and classic designs of crewel embroidery from Erica Wilson and Elsa Williams came to my attention. I made less mess and acquired a little skill. But in the business of life, unfinished projects sank to the bottom of a thread box.

Earlier this year I picked up a pattern and Perle cotton thread. In times of waiting, snow people took shape. Uneven and wobbly stitches aside, I enjoyed the very comfort of plying a needle again.

The Snow Happens pattern can be found here along with other fun patterns and supplies.

A blogger of note, Bronwyn Hayes of Red Brolly has some lovely stitching and photography tutorials, fun designs, quilting and recipes from life Down Under.

Heart-full therapy

Today Ann Voskamp wrote on grief, hard grief. I think whatever grief we are going through is a hard grief. I picked two sentences to remember.

Joy is the way to live bravest of all.

Thanks therapy is God’s prescription for joy.

Last spring I read One Thousand Gifts, Ann’s book. Yesterday I wrote my 1,000th entry. It has been therapy. I am starting over today.

Two Joy Minutes

They who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs;

You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.

Psalm 65:8 NASB

6 October, at home

The glowing beauty in the fog gives way to the dry, rustling sound of raining leaves.

A tiny, fluffy, wind born seed rests on me and then is caught up on the breeze, flitting across the yard like a dancing, twirling fairy.

Bird chatter and busy feeding go on through the sunny hours.

Sabbath rest; I feel it deeply.

Another secret garden

On the grounds of a busy medical center near Baltimore, I have found a hidden garden. Grown from a ravine between garage and offices and crossed with walkways, it draws me anytime I go on campus. On a clear September day, I took the time to linger in this oasis and enjoy the waterfall and pond.

I felt the tension float away as I listened to the water talking to the rocks it passed.

This frog fellow was my only companion, relaxing forever on his lily pad with his carefree attitude that seemed to speak to me that day as the water flowed through him to splash and aerate the water for the vermillion fish.

Wouldn’t it be grand to stretch and face the sun, totally at peace, while accomplishing the work of nurturing others. Thinking about this, I rose and then noticed this small, living frog who I could imagine was also intent on the sculpture. (look closely to the left, near the fallen leaf)

Now relaxed and smiling, I left him to his musing.