Sunday Morning Thoughts

I've just finished reading my favorite blogs, and can't help feeling like I need to crochet something. Where would I get the time? I guess I'll have to make it. Years ago, I use to knit on a machine, but since I didn't have girls and my boys were big, I gave my machine away always knowing my mother had a better one that I could borrow and use. I think I might. My sister Donna is a beautiful knitter and even though my boys have long outgrown her designs I still have them, I might hang them up in "the home" just so I could see them and remember how Daniel was always so cold until he put on one of those sweaters. He still wraps himself up in the sitchi when he is sick. It's still absolutely perfect. Leslie knits beautifully, and Mrs. Wilson too. I've always needed to know how to do that. I think I embroider o.k. and I'll always be grateful to one of my mothers clients for teaching me to cross stitch it was a little Uki but I can adapt. I still have a breakfast cloth that Hanika Banika embroidered it's in Slovak but that's o.k. too. I've actually framed the crocheting Pani Dubiel, and Kim Coculuzzi did, makes it quite contemporary. I would still love one of those flowery crochet pieces that Pani Dubiel did, so I could have a beautiful tree ornament. I'll have to keep my eyes open at my mom's since I think she's chucked just about everything. I hope someday someone else will appreciate these things when my boys are selling them at a garage sale.

Oh my aching bones

When we were growing up my mother always could predict the weather, according to her aching bones. I don't remember if she was right. She also said that it would rain if all the cows in the fields were lying down. Again, I don't remember, nor do I think we ever really documented those predictions. As an adult I always thing there is a scientific reason for everything, including the cows lying down, maybe they are just tired of giving milk. I always felt quite exhausted after nursing. But lately, as I progress through the half century club, I'm starting to say those things to my kids. You know how you start to sound like your parents. Well today, even though I thought I was quite active, I could have predicted the rain. Or ... is my thumb aching because of have embossing metal. Metal embossing requires the use of you thumb for an extensive period of time. Are my feet aching because I have walked more than 6 k. Who knows? But my bones are aching today, and it just happens to be raining. Don't you just hate it when your moms are always right.

Is my art valuable?

For most of my adult life I have been creating, crafting, painting and altering. With the new Indiana Jones movie coming out soon, my boys and I have watched and re-watched all the previous Indy movies. I wondered if all those art objects Indy was making his way through tombs and caves for, were once some housewife's creations. In centuries to come if I don't clean my pile of painted wood out of the attic will someone like Indy find these things and read incredible things into why I used 10/0 liner to do those hair whisps on my new altered painting. Or would they say why on earth did the people of this time wire the pages of books with beads on the ends or for what purpose were those unusual fibers woven into the spine of this obviously handmade journal. Well it could happen. I always thought I would leave the surprises in my book case as one of our co-altered artists said. "When I die, I want my kids to say our mother must of really flipped towards the end, look at all these books with ripped out pages and stamps and inks all over the text, she must have just lost it." and maybe we have. But maybe Indy will find it and think it's great. So happy creating my fellow artists (and I use that term loosely at least referring to myself).