Before 6:00 am

My children have always been very early risers. During the work and school week, everyone is an early riser (my alarm is set for 5:40 am). Yesterday, when I stumbled into the kitchen to start the kettle and check my e-mail, I found my son already up combining pastels and watercolors.

My daughter had told him about how to combine the watercolors and pastels from her art classes at school. I love how the knowledge of the technique was passed down from a nine-year-old to a six-year-old. We had been playing with pastels and watercolors separately over the holiday break. The supplies were still out even though I had not been pleased that the art/craft table was piled up with many different supplies and projects in various stages of completion. Paper everywhere.

Sometimes, a little chaos creates surprising results. All factors in the universe intersected for this to happen, and I love that.

One more story about another intersection involving my son:


For about 24 hours, I have been following a serendipitous labyrinth of links through the internet about improvisational quilting. It is amazing how much time I have spent at the computer looking at other peoples photos on Flickr and tracking down blogs about quilting. It is like discovering an alternate universe-- like stepping through the wardrobe into the magical world of Narnia. Or, it is like spending the day in a large university library doing research--going up and down staircases, in and out of corridors, following Dewey numbers down rows of bookcases and shelves, and browsing books next to the one I thought I wanted. Yes, the librarian in me shines forth!

Well, I've had fabric strips and squares on my mind as I prepare to cross over into the world of log cabin quilting from log cabin knitting. When I put my son to bed last night, he said to me, "Don't forget to cut the square."

I did a double-take. What? Was he reading my mind? He didn't know that I had been designing wonky squares in my mind all day.

He clarified the statement when he saw the puzzled look on my face. "The Rice Krispy Treat square, Mom. Remember, you said you would cut one so that I could have it for breakfast when I get up early, and you are sleeping-in."

Before 6:00 am.

Needle and Thread

Yes, two sewing machines set up on the dining room table! One for me, and one for my daughter. But, even my son was engrossed with some simple embroidery on the sofa. Out of scrap fabric, my daughter made headband slip-covers for a plastic headband. What a great idea! I cut out and prepared more gratitude wraps. Last Sunday afternoon, all of our hands played with needles, fabric, and threads.

I hope this day and this weekend will find us in the sewing room again.

Endings and Beginnings

One of the things we did really well this year was end our Christmas. In the photos above, we are practicing for the Feast of Lights gospel tableau, making crowns and stars in celebration of the three kings, and burning the greens outside of St. Andrew's Cathedral last night in downtown Jackson.

But, this blessing by Howard Thurman takes the ending of Christmas and charges us with a beginning:

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among all,
To make music in the heart.

by Howard Thurman

It is always hard to give up Christmas. But, work has started. School has started. It's raining and raining today. Bombs and guns are exploding in other parts of the world. Children are hungry right here in Jackson.

I am thankful for the words of Howard Thurman reminding me about what is really important during this transition into the new year. It is a tall new year's resolution, but really, it is what each of us should resolve to do each and every day.

Raindrops and light

Just when I thought the sun would not shine yesterday, it did. I looked out of my bedroom window and saw heavy raindrops glistening on the Japanese maple tree.

Today, the children rehearse for the Feast of Lights celebration tomorrow night at church. Shepherds, angels, and wise men will take over the nave, and the evening will conclude with the burning of the greens. Our own tree is still up all the way through Epiphany. I will take it down on Wednesday on my mid-week day-off while the children are in school. This Christmastide is winding down. I return to work tomorrow for lesson planning, cleaning-out, and catching up on loose-ends.

It has been a full, rich Christmas season. Two birthday parties, holiday celebrations, lots of sewing, knitting, painting, putting together, walking, cooking, visiting with family, movie watching, and playing. In our family this time of year is saturated with celebration. Epiphany is also my husband's birthday (shhhh- he turns 40 this year). I still have one more cake to bake!

Shadows and my skirt

The first photo is the shadow of the Japanese Maple whose leaves are drying up and slowly shriveling into the soil.

This morning, I re-made my skirt by cutting off the first fold-over elastic waistband, putting on another, and shortening and evening out the hem. It is much better. I thought about it all night from 12:50 am until about 3:30 am or so when I may have fallen asleep again. I even went to the computer at 2:00 am to see if I could find any extra help from an online video tutorial about skirt-making. I'm proud to say that I figured it out sometime in the early morning hours.

The photo above was taken "pre re-do," but I like the way the shadows from the window frame intersected with my shoes, the carpet, and my skirt. There hasn't been sufficient sunlight today for such a photo with the new version of the skirt. I am slowly learning through my mistakes with the new/old Pfaff machine and appreciating the act of designing and creating something that is uniquely mine.

Positive and Negative Space

Photos of a tree-- the live oak in my front yard-- through its noonday shadows. It reminds me of printmaking with positive and negative space. The canvass is my cracked driveway. The sunlight is the paint. The shadow is the engraving.

New Day

I admit that I have a thing for trees. Their trunks and branches inspire me. The textures of their barks invite me to touch them. Their buds, spring leaves, and fall leaves beg me to pay attention to their cycles and colors. Their unseen roots reaching through the earth make me imagine a world underneath. I love their smells. I love their sounds and movements in the wind and rain. I love their colors in different lights. I love the shade they provide in hot and humid Mississippi summers.

This is the live oak in my front yard. It's beautiful old trunk that stretches and twists across our lawn is one of the main reasons that I bought this house. It sustained major tornado damage and power-line trimming by Entergy last April, and it had heavy growth, new growth, and dead limbs that needed cleaning up. Yesterday, the good folks of Northeast Tree Service trimmed it up and made it look like a new tree! Combined with the noon-day sunshine, it was glorious and hopeful seeing this old, damaged tree restored to new life.

New year. New life. New day. New president (soon). New projects. How hopeful this day feels.