It's been months since I've last posted. I am sorry, but I have had a truly uber hectic summer, more so than any summer to date. Middle child graduated high school (through a different high school than the one he attended, he graduated from Turner, Maine as he was one credit shy to graduate from his regular high school. He went to summer school there and got the credit and his diploma). He is now an Army National Guard boot camp graduate and is in "A" school, learning "Combat Engineering", a fancy title that means "Hey mom! Remember when you used to yell at me for blowing stuff up? Setting fire to stuff? Well now the U.S. government pays me to do it!" Any sleep I thought I could get once I got him graduated, has now flown out that window and is lying on a beach somewhere safe and warm. Number one son waited until number two son was at boot camp for 1 week when he announced he was moving into his own apartment. As in "Hey, what 'cha doing over the Labor Day weekend? How about helping me move?" That's right, lost two kids within two weeks. It is quiet here. Matt is due home from boot camp/school on Dec. 1st. and we will have Thanksgiving the following Saturday.
Daughter finished middle school and is now in a private, Christian high school. We felt it would be a better arrangement for her, less education about stuff she didn't need to know quite yet and more concentration on reading, math, social studies, and science. Her grades are A's and B's and she made the adjustment quite nicely. Was really surprised by that. Due to this being a Christian school, there is more emphasis on the Bible, and reading the Bible and Bible memorization. She is getting quite good at this. Wish I had know about this school years ago. Her brother could have gone there and we wouldn't have had to worry quite so much. Live and learn. Her dad takes her to school, I pick her up. Monday through Thursday. They have Friday's off unless a snow day or holiday happens during the week, and then they make it up on Fridays. Their last day of school is June 1st. We are all very happy with this school and the price, not as scary bad as we'd thought it would be. Very doable. And if she finishes up her math and science requirements by her Junior year, she can take a college math and science course and earn a college credit for them. One to two less credits we will have to pay for.
Garden came in, grew and fed us well this summer. I have a bunch of carrots to can now and we ate all the green beans as they came up, so next year, double the beans, less the Brussels sprouts. Will pull out my potatoes this weekend. We even managed renting a campsite for July (the whole month) and loved it.
With number one son gone, I now have my long sought after craft room! I have our old dining room table in the center, my 2 sewing machines, 1 serger, my antique treadle sewing machine, my spinning wheel, and my loom down there. and the room is big enough for me to host a craft night every Thursday. Two co-workers and one mom from school and I sew, quilt, spin and basically spend 2 hours just working on crafts. Sweet! Sweeter still, I can shut the door and leave my stuff downstairs (although I have a mini workstation set up next to the couch. Between that stuff and my Kindle, I am comfortable where ever I go!
I'll write more soon. I have so much more to add about my shedding of all things redundant and unnecessary and a few mistakes I've made and some "scores" I've made as well.....but I need to go to bed as it's a workday!
Til then.........
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Saturday, May 31, 2014
And this is how one problem leads to another........
I had ordered a spindle that I have wanted for a very long time. Yes, I know, I have a spinning wheel, a small collection of drop spindles (as well as a Russian support spindle that I haven't been able to use yet as I can't figure it out. True example of someone who purchased something based solely on how it looked!) but this spindle is one that I've wanted for so long yet held out until it went truly "on sale".
It came in and it was (is) beautiful! It's a Greensleeves spindle, made in Canary wood with a mahogany shaft. It spins like butter! I so love this. Not taking anything away from my wheel or my other spindles but this is just delightful!
As I was searching for better ways to spin with it on Youtube, I came across something known as a "wrist distaff". Now, if you've never used a drop spindle, you need to wrap your fiber around your wrist so that your spindle doesn't get tangled up with the unspun fiber. Rest assured, you WILL do that at least once (and I've done it THOUSANDS OF TIMES!). But I have never seen such a thing as this. Then I found out she had made herself one! Then I found out I could make one myself. This discovery led to a different one, instead of a distaff, you can use a "chalk" bag like those used by mountain climbers. Of which I am not one. Nor will I ever be one as I don't like heights and am way too heavy to want to support my weight by my toes (which cramp up) and my fingertips (which do likewise). But the bag has "possibilities"! Theirs were homemade too, which intrigued me even more. I have stash. I have sewing knowledge.
Well, if she can do it, so can I! Now I had started the day with good intentions, I need to do laundry and since it's rained every weekend so far, I planned on doing the wash today (no rain!!!), it was breezy, I did my first load at the crack of 8 a.m. I cleaned my kitchen, and then with my first cup of coffee, found the wrist distaff.
And my day ended just like that. One thing led to another which led to Pinterest which led to many hours later. Laundry, still in the machine. STILL. It stopped at 9:15 a.m. It is now 4:30 p.m. Kitchen, a bit messy as yours truly was too busy to be about the stuff that needed to be done. Here I am, on my computer, looking up "what to do with fiber prior to spinning it" and "how to keep fiber from wrapping around your spindle". "How to make a chalk bag." "What is a chalk bag and how does one use it". Hours later. What is wrong with me?? I have so much that REALLY NEEDS ME TO DO IT, I HAVE NO KIDS AROUND TO INTERRUPT ME, HUBBY DEAREST WENT TO WORK ON A SATURDAY AND YET HERE I SIT????
I don't know what I'm angrier about with myself over, finding something that I never needed before and now can't stop feeling I need, finding something new to make (thereby using up some of my stash) or the time wasted that now I will have to stay up late doing to make up for it, thereby putting off spinning on my new toy until tomorrow. Quite possibly this weird addiction I have to all things crafty internet-wise. Or my even weirder attraction to the internet, bordering on addiction. Seriously. Get off the computer NOW. Go clean kitchen, hang laundry, vacuum and then get thy butt downstairs to do the cleaning you started to do THIS MORNING that you've ignored all day. ARRRGGGGG......
This is why I sometimes envy Amish style living. Had I not turned on my computer with my coffee this morning, I would never have found out I needed something I didn't have and would never have seen stuff that I don't have that I can make (in my free time, which coincidentally I won't have because I am on the computer instead of getting the chores done that will give me the free time I need to do the stuff I want to do......) I was happy prior to finding out I wasn't and now I won't be happy until I make something new that I hadn't realized I needed. I could be spinning right now if it wasn't for my own foolishness......
So as you sit here reading how insane I've truly become, what should you be doing and more importantly, why aren't you?
It came in and it was (is) beautiful! It's a Greensleeves spindle, made in Canary wood with a mahogany shaft. It spins like butter! I so love this. Not taking anything away from my wheel or my other spindles but this is just delightful!
As I was searching for better ways to spin with it on Youtube, I came across something known as a "wrist distaff". Now, if you've never used a drop spindle, you need to wrap your fiber around your wrist so that your spindle doesn't get tangled up with the unspun fiber. Rest assured, you WILL do that at least once (and I've done it THOUSANDS OF TIMES!). But I have never seen such a thing as this. Then I found out she had made herself one! Then I found out I could make one myself. This discovery led to a different one, instead of a distaff, you can use a "chalk" bag like those used by mountain climbers. Of which I am not one. Nor will I ever be one as I don't like heights and am way too heavy to want to support my weight by my toes (which cramp up) and my fingertips (which do likewise). But the bag has "possibilities"! Theirs were homemade too, which intrigued me even more. I have stash. I have sewing knowledge.
Well, if she can do it, so can I! Now I had started the day with good intentions, I need to do laundry and since it's rained every weekend so far, I planned on doing the wash today (no rain!!!), it was breezy, I did my first load at the crack of 8 a.m. I cleaned my kitchen, and then with my first cup of coffee, found the wrist distaff.
And my day ended just like that. One thing led to another which led to Pinterest which led to many hours later. Laundry, still in the machine. STILL. It stopped at 9:15 a.m. It is now 4:30 p.m. Kitchen, a bit messy as yours truly was too busy to be about the stuff that needed to be done. Here I am, on my computer, looking up "what to do with fiber prior to spinning it" and "how to keep fiber from wrapping around your spindle". "How to make a chalk bag." "What is a chalk bag and how does one use it". Hours later. What is wrong with me?? I have so much that REALLY NEEDS ME TO DO IT, I HAVE NO KIDS AROUND TO INTERRUPT ME, HUBBY DEAREST WENT TO WORK ON A SATURDAY AND YET HERE I SIT????
I don't know what I'm angrier about with myself over, finding something that I never needed before and now can't stop feeling I need, finding something new to make (thereby using up some of my stash) or the time wasted that now I will have to stay up late doing to make up for it, thereby putting off spinning on my new toy until tomorrow. Quite possibly this weird addiction I have to all things crafty internet-wise. Or my even weirder attraction to the internet, bordering on addiction. Seriously. Get off the computer NOW. Go clean kitchen, hang laundry, vacuum and then get thy butt downstairs to do the cleaning you started to do THIS MORNING that you've ignored all day. ARRRGGGGG......
This is why I sometimes envy Amish style living. Had I not turned on my computer with my coffee this morning, I would never have found out I needed something I didn't have and would never have seen stuff that I don't have that I can make (in my free time, which coincidentally I won't have because I am on the computer instead of getting the chores done that will give me the free time I need to do the stuff I want to do......) I was happy prior to finding out I wasn't and now I won't be happy until I make something new that I hadn't realized I needed. I could be spinning right now if it wasn't for my own foolishness......
So as you sit here reading how insane I've truly become, what should you be doing and more importantly, why aren't you?
Monday, May 26, 2014
And one more thing to cross off my "to do list"!!!!
Normally, at this time of year, I start planting my veggie garden. I spend incredible amounts of time spraying myself with God alone knows what in an effort to keep my blood where it belongs. I don mesh hat with mesh all the way round my head, long sleeves, long pants, socks, sneakers, the above mentioned soaking of "Eau du Off" and outside I go.
This year, I marched my rather large self outside about two weeks ago and planted almost 50 tomato plants. I planted loads of lettuce, 1/2 a bed of Brussels Sprouts, bell peppers, and now, Memorial Day, I finished planting my carrots, beans, cukes, zucchini and peas. Not to mention (but definitely to brag!) 2 peach trees, 2 concord grape bushes, and almost 100 strawberry plants.
For all the "nay sayers" out there, a rather large raspberry to you! I was repeatedly told that my plants would drown, my plants would never survive as it was too cool (not cold mind you, just cool!) well, for all you out there, my plants are thriving! This is not my doing mind you but 90% of the dirt in our raised beds is swamp dirt from our stream. Gary tractored it up and filled my boxes with it.
First thing you should realize about swamp dirt is the smell. It will hit you broadside. Worse is while working in that chocolate cake, spongy mess, a bug decides to land on your face and you swipe at it, well, let's just say that if any of God's critters can stand that odor, there is nothing I can do to harm them. It makes cow manure smell divine! That is the most rancid, foul, noxious odor around. My plants LOVE it. Like kids around forbidden food, my seedlings think they've hit the jackpot.
As you can see here, my rewards for my early effort extended to less bugs around when I planted but also to the appearance of "baby" bell peppers! Early! Almost all my plants have at least one of these wonders of nature, some sporting two or three. Now, if the rest of my garden grows as good as this, I will be one happy camper!!
I did notice a few things though, chiefly fewer bugs! When I started planting, the black flies hadn't come out yet. For the record, they love the swamp dirt even more than the plants. We planted our seedlings much easier without the constant slap, scratch and under breath swearing that accompanies my later planting. Today however, the bugs are out and out with a vengeance! I have bug guts in my ears, my hair and in places down my shirt that I can't figure out how they got there. I hate bugs. I shouldn't hate anything this much.
Well, now off to clean my kitchen. Memorial Day brings with it a larger than life dinner and with such a dinner comes a larger than life dishwashing detail! I can't believe that the 3 day weekend is over! Summer is here (mostly) and all is right in my patch of God's world.
This year, I marched my rather large self outside about two weeks ago and planted almost 50 tomato plants. I planted loads of lettuce, 1/2 a bed of Brussels Sprouts, bell peppers, and now, Memorial Day, I finished planting my carrots, beans, cukes, zucchini and peas. Not to mention (but definitely to brag!) 2 peach trees, 2 concord grape bushes, and almost 100 strawberry plants.
For all the "nay sayers" out there, a rather large raspberry to you! I was repeatedly told that my plants would drown, my plants would never survive as it was too cool (not cold mind you, just cool!) well, for all you out there, my plants are thriving! This is not my doing mind you but 90% of the dirt in our raised beds is swamp dirt from our stream. Gary tractored it up and filled my boxes with it.
First thing you should realize about swamp dirt is the smell. It will hit you broadside. Worse is while working in that chocolate cake, spongy mess, a bug decides to land on your face and you swipe at it, well, let's just say that if any of God's critters can stand that odor, there is nothing I can do to harm them. It makes cow manure smell divine! That is the most rancid, foul, noxious odor around. My plants LOVE it. Like kids around forbidden food, my seedlings think they've hit the jackpot.
As you can see here, my rewards for my early effort extended to less bugs around when I planted but also to the appearance of "baby" bell peppers! Early! Almost all my plants have at least one of these wonders of nature, some sporting two or three. Now, if the rest of my garden grows as good as this, I will be one happy camper!!
I did notice a few things though, chiefly fewer bugs! When I started planting, the black flies hadn't come out yet. For the record, they love the swamp dirt even more than the plants. We planted our seedlings much easier without the constant slap, scratch and under breath swearing that accompanies my later planting. Today however, the bugs are out and out with a vengeance! I have bug guts in my ears, my hair and in places down my shirt that I can't figure out how they got there. I hate bugs. I shouldn't hate anything this much.
Well, now off to clean my kitchen. Memorial Day brings with it a larger than life dinner and with such a dinner comes a larger than life dishwashing detail! I can't believe that the 3 day weekend is over! Summer is here (mostly) and all is right in my patch of God's world.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
In my house, "doin the nasty" has a whole different meaning.......
It is a peaceful Sunday. We have had Chinese food, we are full, we are dozy, we are resting in various rooms. All is right with our world. We are happy.
Well, THEY are. I too am full, basically happy HOWEVER, it is the day I must clean the refrigerator. Everyone who knows me knows I would rather kiss a whirling lawn mower than clean my refrigerator, I would rather have a colonoscopy at work than clean the refrigerator, would almost rather have another child than clean the refrigerator, so I wait til the smell is all but overwhelming and then I clean it. It is the only time no one comes near my kitchen when I am in it. No one.
This is the time where we all find out just what that stench is. Tonight, I found a half a box of thawed, molded, fish sticks, in the back. Why they were ever put in the fridge and not the freezer, remains a mystery. No one knows the answer to this. Or will admit it. I finally found the package of bacon I'd been missing since Lent began. 3 oranges that are brown and hard, 1 pomegranate (been in the way back since Christmas; it is now almost May), a bag of carrots that are soft, 2, yes 2, quart jars of maraschino cherries, 2 cucumbers that are all liquid....I could go on and on. The stench is unbelieveable.
And this is when I have an epiphany. What hits me right between the lookers is the realization that I am throwing away more food today than many people have to eat for a month in places like the Sudan. That makes me ashamed. That makes me angry at myself for purchasing more than was necessary and being that wasteful. We are a middle income family. We are trying to be better stewards of what God has given us and here I am, tossing what could have fed us for well over two weeks, away. How stupid is that?
The solution? Well, I cleaned out the fridge, washed it down (again). Then I took the jars, those whose expiration dates haven't come and gone, and made a list of everything left. Now I'm planning a weeks menu based on what I have. We are going to do better. Now that #2 son is done with night school, I will be cooking again. I will strive to use up what is here before purchasing anything more.
Anyone have any ideas on how to use 2 quarts of maraschino cherries??
Well, THEY are. I too am full, basically happy HOWEVER, it is the day I must clean the refrigerator. Everyone who knows me knows I would rather kiss a whirling lawn mower than clean my refrigerator, I would rather have a colonoscopy at work than clean the refrigerator, would almost rather have another child than clean the refrigerator, so I wait til the smell is all but overwhelming and then I clean it. It is the only time no one comes near my kitchen when I am in it. No one.
This is the time where we all find out just what that stench is. Tonight, I found a half a box of thawed, molded, fish sticks, in the back. Why they were ever put in the fridge and not the freezer, remains a mystery. No one knows the answer to this. Or will admit it. I finally found the package of bacon I'd been missing since Lent began. 3 oranges that are brown and hard, 1 pomegranate (been in the way back since Christmas; it is now almost May), a bag of carrots that are soft, 2, yes 2, quart jars of maraschino cherries, 2 cucumbers that are all liquid....I could go on and on. The stench is unbelieveable.
And this is when I have an epiphany. What hits me right between the lookers is the realization that I am throwing away more food today than many people have to eat for a month in places like the Sudan. That makes me ashamed. That makes me angry at myself for purchasing more than was necessary and being that wasteful. We are a middle income family. We are trying to be better stewards of what God has given us and here I am, tossing what could have fed us for well over two weeks, away. How stupid is that?
The solution? Well, I cleaned out the fridge, washed it down (again). Then I took the jars, those whose expiration dates haven't come and gone, and made a list of everything left. Now I'm planning a weeks menu based on what I have. We are going to do better. Now that #2 son is done with night school, I will be cooking again. I will strive to use up what is here before purchasing anything more.
Anyone have any ideas on how to use 2 quarts of maraschino cherries??
Sunday, April 6, 2014
S.A.B.L.E. and what that means to me......
I learned a new word last year from a knitting/spinning blog that fits me to a tee The word is "Sable". It means: "Stash Acquired Beyond Life Expectancy". This, as I am seeing more and more clearly, defines me.
Everyone in life goes through stages. For crafters or "Fiber Artisans" as I now prefer to be called, this is visually evident. In my quilting/sewing stages, when my kids were young and homemade clothes were acceptable, and quilting was a natural outpouring of that period of my life, my collection of all things cotton became sizeable. Because each piece of cotton brought back memories, it was hard to give the leftovers away. Yes, I do have pictures of the kids running around in those homemade clothes (and why YES, they DID look great!) but I'm a tactile person. I can't touch the fabric those pictures show. I can however go to my cotton bin (who am I kidding? Bin should always have an "S" at the end) and hunt through to find the leftover fabric. See I was a visionary way back then. I always bought 1 yard more than the pattern called for, so I'd have a leftover piece for "later". Or "the addiction started here", take your pick. This gave me an excuse to make a quilt with their clothes fabric. Always thinking ahead. Since I preferred cotton for their clothes (wrinkles be damned), I have amassed a rather large stash. Yes, I did make them quilts but they've put them away as they prefer comforters and our daughter prefers a color co-ordinated room that comes out of Target.
Next came my needle work period. I received a computer software program to make counted cross stitch. I already had the first two computer programs that Electric Quilt had made. You design your quilt on the computer, then fill in the pieces with actual computer scanned fabric samples that you could then go to places like Joann's and purchase. This guaranteed a successful quilt. Now here is a computer program that allows you to use your DMC/Anchor floss to design your own samplers, stitchery projects. Terrific! I can so do this! I now have the professional version of Hobbyware's Counted Cross Stitch Maker and a copy of the PCSTITCH cross stitch software. I collected all sizes/counts of Aida cloth, both packaged and by the yard, frames to hold the fabric, the necessary needles, at least 2 of every DMC (the floss I prefer) color they make), and enough kits (my "kitting" stage) to see me through to my next life.
Then knitting. Now Spinning and weaving. I have amassed a substantial amount of "stash". More than I can use in this life. Hubby dearest says more than any three people can use in their lifetimes. I am not pointing this out as if I'm bragging, but as a way to remind myself that having all this also ties and binds me. I feel a little guilt if I purchase 1 more item as I have so much now that I haven't done anything with. I feel chained to holding onto stuff due to the memories that I have of the who/what/when/where of that period of my life. I have enough bins to build my own fortress. Coincidentally, those bins have become my fortress. A wonderful comment in "A Christmas Carol" is said to Scrooge that we forge link upon link, miles of heavy chain, that hold us down. In my case I can always come up with a good reason to purchase just one more item, but the reality is, I don't have a good reason. Not until I use what I have. Or give it away. As I see bin upon bin of acquired stash empty and leave, I can feel my load get lighter. I feel better. I know I am undoing the chain I've forged.
This is also not a "only me" issue. Many, many of my friends and those on the web that I am friends forged by hobby (groups like Ravelry, and Knitting Paradise come to mind) have exactly the same issue. You know it's bad when someone on those sites issues the challenge "how do you sneak your latest purchase into the house or what money did you rob Peter from to pay for your latest purchase" and the answers are numerous. Or like me, when you sit down to give away bin upon bin of magazines and you do a quick mathematical assessment and realize you could have purchased something more tangible than a "here today, gone tomorrow" reading material, something you could have Googled online for free. Or as hubby dearest says, you could have, ahem, SAVED the money. Yeah, like THAT is ever going to happen. We've been married since Noah built the ark and I admit right now, I am so not a saver of cash. I can save sippy cups from my "baby" (although said baby is now almost 15) but for me to save $1.00 would require me to be chained to a bed in a steel cage, with a multi-locked door attached. Yes, I do coupon and do so pretty well I can tell you, but only to fund my fiber addiction. Hello, my name is Deborah and I am a fiber-aholic. Don't judge.
But like almost every addict can attest, if we live long enough, are honest with ourselves enough, we come to a point where we acknowledge our issues, and start mending our fences. My fences are in dire need. They sag, they've rusted through and I've got the scratch marks to prove it. But they are getting fixed. One step at a time.....
Everyone in life goes through stages. For crafters or "Fiber Artisans" as I now prefer to be called, this is visually evident. In my quilting/sewing stages, when my kids were young and homemade clothes were acceptable, and quilting was a natural outpouring of that period of my life, my collection of all things cotton became sizeable. Because each piece of cotton brought back memories, it was hard to give the leftovers away. Yes, I do have pictures of the kids running around in those homemade clothes (and why YES, they DID look great!) but I'm a tactile person. I can't touch the fabric those pictures show. I can however go to my cotton bin (who am I kidding? Bin should always have an "S" at the end) and hunt through to find the leftover fabric. See I was a visionary way back then. I always bought 1 yard more than the pattern called for, so I'd have a leftover piece for "later". Or "the addiction started here", take your pick. This gave me an excuse to make a quilt with their clothes fabric. Always thinking ahead. Since I preferred cotton for their clothes (wrinkles be damned), I have amassed a rather large stash. Yes, I did make them quilts but they've put them away as they prefer comforters and our daughter prefers a color co-ordinated room that comes out of Target.
Next came my needle work period. I received a computer software program to make counted cross stitch. I already had the first two computer programs that Electric Quilt had made. You design your quilt on the computer, then fill in the pieces with actual computer scanned fabric samples that you could then go to places like Joann's and purchase. This guaranteed a successful quilt. Now here is a computer program that allows you to use your DMC/Anchor floss to design your own samplers, stitchery projects. Terrific! I can so do this! I now have the professional version of Hobbyware's Counted Cross Stitch Maker and a copy of the PCSTITCH cross stitch software. I collected all sizes/counts of Aida cloth, both packaged and by the yard, frames to hold the fabric, the necessary needles, at least 2 of every DMC (the floss I prefer) color they make), and enough kits (my "kitting" stage) to see me through to my next life.
Then knitting. Now Spinning and weaving. I have amassed a substantial amount of "stash". More than I can use in this life. Hubby dearest says more than any three people can use in their lifetimes. I am not pointing this out as if I'm bragging, but as a way to remind myself that having all this also ties and binds me. I feel a little guilt if I purchase 1 more item as I have so much now that I haven't done anything with. I feel chained to holding onto stuff due to the memories that I have of the who/what/when/where of that period of my life. I have enough bins to build my own fortress. Coincidentally, those bins have become my fortress. A wonderful comment in "A Christmas Carol" is said to Scrooge that we forge link upon link, miles of heavy chain, that hold us down. In my case I can always come up with a good reason to purchase just one more item, but the reality is, I don't have a good reason. Not until I use what I have. Or give it away. As I see bin upon bin of acquired stash empty and leave, I can feel my load get lighter. I feel better. I know I am undoing the chain I've forged.
This is also not a "only me" issue. Many, many of my friends and those on the web that I am friends forged by hobby (groups like Ravelry, and Knitting Paradise come to mind) have exactly the same issue. You know it's bad when someone on those sites issues the challenge "how do you sneak your latest purchase into the house or what money did you rob Peter from to pay for your latest purchase" and the answers are numerous. Or like me, when you sit down to give away bin upon bin of magazines and you do a quick mathematical assessment and realize you could have purchased something more tangible than a "here today, gone tomorrow" reading material, something you could have Googled online for free. Or as hubby dearest says, you could have, ahem, SAVED the money. Yeah, like THAT is ever going to happen. We've been married since Noah built the ark and I admit right now, I am so not a saver of cash. I can save sippy cups from my "baby" (although said baby is now almost 15) but for me to save $1.00 would require me to be chained to a bed in a steel cage, with a multi-locked door attached. Yes, I do coupon and do so pretty well I can tell you, but only to fund my fiber addiction. Hello, my name is Deborah and I am a fiber-aholic. Don't judge.
But like almost every addict can attest, if we live long enough, are honest with ourselves enough, we come to a point where we acknowledge our issues, and start mending our fences. My fences are in dire need. They sag, they've rusted through and I've got the scratch marks to prove it. But they are getting fixed. One step at a time.....
Friday, April 4, 2014
It is now April and I finally saw my 1st Robin..........
I had to get sick to appreciate this. On April 3rd, I came down with a vicious stomach flu. The "2 exits, no waiting" type. The "I think I just went 12 rounds with Sugar Ray and lost" type. I spent most of the day (when not in the bathroom) curled into the fetal position and hoping to die, and please God, soon! But even with all this sickness, I still had to drive #1 son to work and go get him when work was over. I had to drive #2 son to night school, and go get him when school was over. I hoped the massive stroke would hit me while stopped at a light. Anything for the pain to stop.
I don't care what the calendar says, for me, Spring officially begins when I see my 1st robin. Everyone else in the state has seen them, but not I. But on my sick day, as I hung precariously between returning to bed or just staying in the bathroom, lo and behold, out the window was a robin. Close enough to hear his (her?) singing, see the red breast, and even though I was convinced in my soul of souls that I would see my own demise soon, I finally know that Spring is here. Had I not been sick, I would not have seen this robin.
Spring. Rebirth. All things made new. The purging of the land to make way for new growth. Isn't that what I've been doing lately? No, I don't mean just on April 3rd, where I purged ALOT, but since January. Purging our abode from all things extra and overwhelming. Growth. Realizing that giving up and giving away are not one in the same. That value is something we all have, when we have nothing else. It is not always a question of who you are, but of what "who you are" means to you. I feel comfortable with the "who you are" question. Maybe that is due to age. In my 20's, I was all about having fun, live hard, live fast and die young, leaving a good looking corpse. In my 30's, it was all about "settling down". Starting a family. Finding out who God was and whether or not he was important to me. In my 40's, it was about combining the work I enjoyed with the life I wanted to live. Now in my 50's, it's about defining what life I want to live and how to accomplish and or combine that with the work I am doing. Yeah, I know, the last two are kinda jumbled up. One would have thought the logical idea would have been to define the life I want THEN how to change the life I have with the life I want, but sometimes I tend to put the cart before the horse. My old ADHD kicking in. Anyway, it's through the reexamining of my life that I am able to see who I am and what I value and where I want to be. Sometimes, you have to look back to see ahead. Or look out a window, where God will show you your sign of spring.....
I don't care what the calendar says, for me, Spring officially begins when I see my 1st robin. Everyone else in the state has seen them, but not I. But on my sick day, as I hung precariously between returning to bed or just staying in the bathroom, lo and behold, out the window was a robin. Close enough to hear his (her?) singing, see the red breast, and even though I was convinced in my soul of souls that I would see my own demise soon, I finally know that Spring is here. Had I not been sick, I would not have seen this robin.
Spring. Rebirth. All things made new. The purging of the land to make way for new growth. Isn't that what I've been doing lately? No, I don't mean just on April 3rd, where I purged ALOT, but since January. Purging our abode from all things extra and overwhelming. Growth. Realizing that giving up and giving away are not one in the same. That value is something we all have, when we have nothing else. It is not always a question of who you are, but of what "who you are" means to you. I feel comfortable with the "who you are" question. Maybe that is due to age. In my 20's, I was all about having fun, live hard, live fast and die young, leaving a good looking corpse. In my 30's, it was all about "settling down". Starting a family. Finding out who God was and whether or not he was important to me. In my 40's, it was about combining the work I enjoyed with the life I wanted to live. Now in my 50's, it's about defining what life I want to live and how to accomplish and or combine that with the work I am doing. Yeah, I know, the last two are kinda jumbled up. One would have thought the logical idea would have been to define the life I want THEN how to change the life I have with the life I want, but sometimes I tend to put the cart before the horse. My old ADHD kicking in. Anyway, it's through the reexamining of my life that I am able to see who I am and what I value and where I want to be. Sometimes, you have to look back to see ahead. Or look out a window, where God will show you your sign of spring.....
Thursday, March 6, 2014
One of the benefits of ridding yourself of the stuff you've accumulated
As you know, I am divesting myself of stuff. It is a"work in progress". Anything worth doing will almost always be a work in progress. In this case however, finishing isn't as important. It's more or less an evolving, not a "check it off the list of things to get done" thing. If you think about it, any change you make in your life will require you to think, re-think and sometimes think again. I have been doing alot of "rethinking" of what I want in my life and what I can do without.
As a hobbyist, you collect stuff. People give you stuff. Stuff just magically "appears". Once word gets out that you like crafts, it's almost always assumed that you would just love someone else's stash. The truth is, sometimes you do. More than likely though, you probably don't. I have inherited a whole basement full of stuff. Fabric I would never have bought for myself. Yarn of dubious quality, not to mention no idea of the fiber content. Is it acrylic? If so, is it all acrylic or is it a blend? Someones' tossed aside knitting needles, metal of course (I favor wood) and nicked and scratched to boot. I even got a counted cross stitch picture, half stitched, with rust on the fabric. Rust! I couldn't do anything with it and now it is lining a dump somewhere. For a long time, I was afraid of throwing away something given to me. Usually, if I received something from someone, it would be noticed if someone else showed up with it. That's a problem when you have a very tight group of friends, we know everyone's secrets and what everyone has, hasn't and what they want and admire. Unless you need to get rid of something. It's amazing to realize that it is o.k. to not want something. To give yourself permission to shed stuff that you would not have purchased for yourself, know that someone else would love to have it, cherish more than you and if it truly is rubbish, having the courage to decide to do the world a favor and get rid of it.
But like friends, tossing your belongings aside or just letting them go to someone else, can be difficult. You have to be able to answer the question, "what does this signify to me and why is it so important for me to hold onto it?" That's the problem true hoarders have. They get stuff to the point that stuff owns them. Everything is so important yet when pushed to answer the hard question "why", they have difficulty putting into words what their excuses are. The stuff that really means something, well, that is easy to answer.
"This belonged to my grandmother. When I see it, I remember the countless times that she used it." This is an item that can't be replaced as it has serious meaning for you. The problem is when you have stuff that has no real meaning for you and yet you can't get rid of it. After a bit, this becomes your security blanket. You feel safe with it around. Maybe you went through a major life upheaval, job loss, death of a loved one, something that affected you in a manner you just couldn't deal with rationally. So you latched onto something safe. I remember after a 2 1/2 year layoff, that even when I was working elsewhere and barely making ends meet, thinking "when I get my job back, I am going to purchase so much yarn. This way, if I see something I want to make, I won't have to worry about having the money to purchase the stuff to make it." In my case, I come by stuff acquisition naturally. My dad's mother, raised two boys alone (her husband died of a heart attack early in life). Not only did she put herself through school, she purchased a home (this in the time where women had to have a co-signer for a loan). She took in relatives children (a whole house of them) when the mother came down with TB. She did this with no help from the state. The older children tended the younger children. She worked 3 to 11. They all graduated high school, they went on to having successful lives. They were fed, clean, dressed and didn't want for much. Yet, even when many times there was more "month than money", she still put food up into a pantry. She would buy 1 skein of yarn more and put that skein back "just in case". My mother's mom, canned, put up tons of food, hardly used a grocery store. These women were from the Depression. My mom moved us all to Maine when my dad got stationed here and the first thing she did was set up a pantry. I can still hear her today "You can never tell when you'll need something and the roads will be impassable or a friend will need some help." She still has a pantry that would feed her for over 6 months.
I have a really large food pantry. It is my security blanket. But I have to admit, when I see those bins of fabric, yarn, fiber, I feel safe. The really difficult thing is realizing that just because something like my many hobbies, something that means so much to me, defines who I am and what I value, does not have the same meaning to my children. I had a real epiphany watching "Hoarders" the other night. The daughter of a true hoarder made the comment that when her mother died, all this stuff was headed to a town dump. I looked around at my stash. Would my children feel the same way? I am not taking it with me when I go, so I have to give thought to what is going to happen to it when I'm gone. My sons would happily just give away or throw away my stuff without another thought. My daughter would be less quick to throw, but what defines me, doesn't define her. I don't want her to hold onto some of my stash, only to have it become her ball and chain. I explained that to her and she told me not to worry. She did a mini-version of the "100 thing challenge" and I've seen monks cells with more stuff. Hoarding is not going to be a problem for her. Her needs a few, a t.v.(for Netflix), a computer, 1 writer she likes alot and her cellphone. That's it. The boys have a bit more, add to that my daughters stuff: video systems (that's right, with an "s") games, boom box and MP3 players. Ipads and tablets.
I have to have my Kindle Fire and my tablet. They are either with me at work or in my knitting bag. Always.
A side effect of following this to it's natural conclusion is trying to figure out who should get my stuff when I am gone. It sounds morbid, but I am really giving thought to including some of my "I would love to know that so & so would receive this" feelings. To accept the fact that just because it means so much to me, but that it may ONLY mean so much to me. I question my friends. They think it odd but they are coming around. The more I examine the hold my stuff has on me, the more I answer those difficult questions, the more I shed my belongings like a snake sheds it's skin, the reins loosen, the hold eases up, it gets easier and easier. You realize that you have value that extend up and beyond what you have. You are not defined by the stuff you have but by the joy the stuff you have brings you. And you will find as you let go, you can and will be happier with less.
As a hobbyist, you collect stuff. People give you stuff. Stuff just magically "appears". Once word gets out that you like crafts, it's almost always assumed that you would just love someone else's stash. The truth is, sometimes you do. More than likely though, you probably don't. I have inherited a whole basement full of stuff. Fabric I would never have bought for myself. Yarn of dubious quality, not to mention no idea of the fiber content. Is it acrylic? If so, is it all acrylic or is it a blend? Someones' tossed aside knitting needles, metal of course (I favor wood) and nicked and scratched to boot. I even got a counted cross stitch picture, half stitched, with rust on the fabric. Rust! I couldn't do anything with it and now it is lining a dump somewhere. For a long time, I was afraid of throwing away something given to me. Usually, if I received something from someone, it would be noticed if someone else showed up with it. That's a problem when you have a very tight group of friends, we know everyone's secrets and what everyone has, hasn't and what they want and admire. Unless you need to get rid of something. It's amazing to realize that it is o.k. to not want something. To give yourself permission to shed stuff that you would not have purchased for yourself, know that someone else would love to have it, cherish more than you and if it truly is rubbish, having the courage to decide to do the world a favor and get rid of it.
But like friends, tossing your belongings aside or just letting them go to someone else, can be difficult. You have to be able to answer the question, "what does this signify to me and why is it so important for me to hold onto it?" That's the problem true hoarders have. They get stuff to the point that stuff owns them. Everything is so important yet when pushed to answer the hard question "why", they have difficulty putting into words what their excuses are. The stuff that really means something, well, that is easy to answer.
"This belonged to my grandmother. When I see it, I remember the countless times that she used it." This is an item that can't be replaced as it has serious meaning for you. The problem is when you have stuff that has no real meaning for you and yet you can't get rid of it. After a bit, this becomes your security blanket. You feel safe with it around. Maybe you went through a major life upheaval, job loss, death of a loved one, something that affected you in a manner you just couldn't deal with rationally. So you latched onto something safe. I remember after a 2 1/2 year layoff, that even when I was working elsewhere and barely making ends meet, thinking "when I get my job back, I am going to purchase so much yarn. This way, if I see something I want to make, I won't have to worry about having the money to purchase the stuff to make it." In my case, I come by stuff acquisition naturally. My dad's mother, raised two boys alone (her husband died of a heart attack early in life). Not only did she put herself through school, she purchased a home (this in the time where women had to have a co-signer for a loan). She took in relatives children (a whole house of them) when the mother came down with TB. She did this with no help from the state. The older children tended the younger children. She worked 3 to 11. They all graduated high school, they went on to having successful lives. They were fed, clean, dressed and didn't want for much. Yet, even when many times there was more "month than money", she still put food up into a pantry. She would buy 1 skein of yarn more and put that skein back "just in case". My mother's mom, canned, put up tons of food, hardly used a grocery store. These women were from the Depression. My mom moved us all to Maine when my dad got stationed here and the first thing she did was set up a pantry. I can still hear her today "You can never tell when you'll need something and the roads will be impassable or a friend will need some help." She still has a pantry that would feed her for over 6 months.
I have a really large food pantry. It is my security blanket. But I have to admit, when I see those bins of fabric, yarn, fiber, I feel safe. The really difficult thing is realizing that just because something like my many hobbies, something that means so much to me, defines who I am and what I value, does not have the same meaning to my children. I had a real epiphany watching "Hoarders" the other night. The daughter of a true hoarder made the comment that when her mother died, all this stuff was headed to a town dump. I looked around at my stash. Would my children feel the same way? I am not taking it with me when I go, so I have to give thought to what is going to happen to it when I'm gone. My sons would happily just give away or throw away my stuff without another thought. My daughter would be less quick to throw, but what defines me, doesn't define her. I don't want her to hold onto some of my stash, only to have it become her ball and chain. I explained that to her and she told me not to worry. She did a mini-version of the "100 thing challenge" and I've seen monks cells with more stuff. Hoarding is not going to be a problem for her. Her needs a few, a t.v.(for Netflix), a computer, 1 writer she likes alot and her cellphone. That's it. The boys have a bit more, add to that my daughters stuff: video systems (that's right, with an "s") games, boom box and MP3 players. Ipads and tablets.
I have to have my Kindle Fire and my tablet. They are either with me at work or in my knitting bag. Always.
A side effect of following this to it's natural conclusion is trying to figure out who should get my stuff when I am gone. It sounds morbid, but I am really giving thought to including some of my "I would love to know that so & so would receive this" feelings. To accept the fact that just because it means so much to me, but that it may ONLY mean so much to me. I question my friends. They think it odd but they are coming around. The more I examine the hold my stuff has on me, the more I answer those difficult questions, the more I shed my belongings like a snake sheds it's skin, the reins loosen, the hold eases up, it gets easier and easier. You realize that you have value that extend up and beyond what you have. You are not defined by the stuff you have but by the joy the stuff you have brings you. And you will find as you let go, you can and will be happier with less.
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