Summer Days

I ordered a kit the other day. I had ran across this wonderful blog. It is called The Diary of a Rugmaker. Cee was making these lovely penny rug kits and she has videos to go along with them. I was so enthralled. I spent the day watching her videos. I ordered one of her kits so I can watch her video and learn how to make penny rugs too.

Here is what comes in the kit
.

 

It comes with this luscious wool. Pennies and the hand dyed thread. I wish I had had this when I was sitting in doctor offices early this year. I can't wait to start it. 

While I was fooling around so I could take a picture I thought I had never blogged about my treadle sewing machine.

 

Isn't lovely? I am the fifth generation of women to have this sewing machine. As I thought about it I was overcome with the women in my family who sewed on it. I remember my Mom telling me how she preferred sewing on this treadle. My mom was an incredible seamstress. I have a box of her old clothes that she made someday I will do a blog about that. (She watched Jackie Kennedy like a hawk and would make look alike clothes.)  So I was looking at this and thought I would take a few pictures.

 I love all of the workman ship that has gone into this. When I brought it home years ago from my grandmothers house, it was like a time machine. In it were World War ll medals, old bullets from
guns, ( That scared me to death.) Ration Stamps. It still has the attachments. The box lining is old velvet.

Then that metal container was a cold cream can from Max Factor. It was my grandmother's button can. In it are old buttons and my mom's buttons from her vest when she was in Camp Fire Girls.

I realized that I have a thing for old sewing machines. I have two Singer Feather Weight machines.
I have a old machine that was also my grandmothers I need to get out and look at. She made one of my Christmas formals on it one year. I always thought it was funny, that my Mom loved the treadle and my grandmother always wanted new. I wish I knew how to use the treadle. My Mom said it always gave a truer stitch.

The above photos are from the women on my Mom's side of the family. My Mom's family were very, very different from my Dad's family and my grandmother on that side.
 My Dad met my Mom in a dance hall that my grandfather had dances in on Saturday night. My Mom was the hat-check girl.

 My Dad's family were extremely religious. Hyper religious. My dad was of course the black sheep and you know what happens when worlds collide.  I was though, surrounded by very strong women. I think I have befitted from both worlds.
.

 

 Since I have been meaning to show you this Grandmother's Flower Garden. I was using it as a back drop.
 My Dad's mother, my  Granny was left a orphan in the flu epidemic.
She was 12 years old. A man came upon her house and she was sick, but her family had passed away. Silas had lost his wife and children as well. He buried her family and then nursed her back to health. Then he married her.
She always spoke of him with kindness and such love and gratitude. It was always hard to get my mind around. Then he died when she was sixteen and she was on her own again. After WWI was over she married my grandpa and had my Dad and his family. Her quilting frame was an old one that let down from the ceiling. How I wish I had not been so busy then, and I had learned from her as well. This quilt isn't made from a rotary cutter, but cut with scissors. It is all hand quilted. They used their own templates they made from boxes. I was out of high school before my grandmother made quilts from fabric she bought. Most of the quilts she made were made from clothing people gave her.

As I was looking at that sewing machine today. It dawned on me.

Sewing, doing needlework, knitting and the things I love so much are because of the generations of women who did the sewing as a way to bring beauty and comfort to their family and their homes. I never feel as content as when I have fabric or wool or a needle and thread in my hand. I think it comes from the generations of women who have left me a bit of themselves in the legacies they passed down, of a love of a needle and thread.

Thank you for reading. I hope you have a lovely day.

~Kim~

" What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, " is that somewhere it hides a well."
---The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery, 1943

Just Twaddle

 

You know I almost am reluctant to write a post today, with all of the extremes in pain and suffering going on in the world. I have a hard time keeping my mind on happy things. As you and I watch horror unfold each day all around us it is hard to keep focused on what is good. I am determined though to find good things to talk about. Even if it is fluffy.

 

My dear sweet girl, came over the other day and brought me flowers. She said, " I take flowers to every one else but I never bring Mom flowers." 

 

I thought they were so pretty and I am so proud of her. I have them on my table and every time I walk in and see them I am filled with such joy. It is really nice having a daughter than works in a flower shop. It is really nice having such nice people in my family. They all are such a treat to be around.

 

Speaking of treats. I didn't swim at all last year. Nor go outside much. One thing I have pondered this year. When I see a blue swimming pool and blue skies. You can't always trust even what you see. Last year, I couldn't make myself get in the swimming pool. In fact, there were times I wished that we could get a backhoe to come fill it in with dirt so I wouldn't have to look at it. I would ask Ron over and over, " Why can't you get the pool blue anymore, why is it always green?" Sweet as he is he never said, It is blue you weirdo or anything like that." He just was kind and would say things like, " Oh it looks okay and go put more chlorine in it."

 

Then after that first surgery and the pool was blue and now the pool sparkles and the sky is blue and not looking like a nuclear fallout  sky. I love to swim and be outside. Instead of hiding. Simple things like just jumping in the car and driving because it is no big deal. Little things like that. Our neighbors next door, have a windmill out in their lot next to their barn. The man that owns the property, brought it home in 1963 for his wife. I have always called it Donna's Windmill. When my eyes were so bad, I told Ron, someone must have taken Donna's windmill its gone now." I would stare and stare over there and no matter how I looked I couldn't see it. Then I got my eyes fixed and there it was, in the place it has been all of these years.

 

I don't know if you have ever noticed but windmills aren't tiny. Yet no matter how I looked I couldn't see it. What it taught me, is even though I am looking, I might be not seeing things as they really are and even though my eyes are open, I can still be blind.

 

I finished this yesterday. It is one of my projects I wanted to do last year. I would sit with the pattern in my lap, and no matter how big the print nor how good my glasses were, I couldn't see to sew. I finally gave up and put it away. Yesterday when I finished it, there was such a feeling of accomplishment. I sat and stared out the window and thought, of how far in a year I have come. What I thought was going to be then end of me, was really only the beginning. My oldest daughter moving, my next daughter getting married, no longer being a homeschooling mom. Then loosing my eye sight and not understanding. Looking at the road that seemed so long.

Ron and I have had the best summer of our lives. We have had so much just us time. We have had if you will I think a new beginning this summer as we have been reminded why we got married 34 years ago. We have been reminded of laughter and love and how it feels to be best friends. We have gone though trials, and hardship and testing and heartbreak. But truly I can say, that poem that begins,
" Come grow old with me, for the best is yet to be..."  If I had a title, I would name this summer that.

 

I guess one thing I wish I could tell my kids who are married and the ones that will be someday. Times get hard, and sometimes you really think you will never get through this or that, don't ever give up. The days will pass faster than you ever thought and then there you are at the end of the tunnel. That light wasn't a freight train after all, but a new day filled with joy and promise and good things over flowing into your lap. Then there are grand kids. Who knew??? Being a grandmother, things just keep getting better and better. Having a little kid, say, " Grandma, do you know I love you!" Is what life is about.

I warned you, it was just twaddle today. Life can be so daily, but oh so good with the quiet things that just show up.
Thank you for visiting and following along.
Have a lovely Tuesday,
~Kim~

And then you came...
---Alex---

A New Week

I read something this week, that was comforting and up lifting and gave me such a sense of, " No matter what happens, it will be okay." I wanted to share it with you.

 

I have been through the valley of weeping,
  The valley of sorrow and pain;
But the "God of all comfort" was with me,
   At hand to uphold and sustain.

 

As the earth needs the clouds and sunshine,
    Our souls need both sorrow and joy;
So He placees us oft in the furnace,
     The dross from the gold to destroy.

 

When he leads thro' some valley of trouble,
     His Omnipotent hand we trace;
For the trials and sorrows He sends us,
      Are part of His lessons in grace.

 

Oft we shrink for the purging and pruning,
    Forgetting the Husbandman knows
That the deeper the cutting and paring,
     The richer the cluster that grows.

Well He knows that affliction is needed;
   He has a wise purpose in view.
And in the dark valley He whispers,
    Hereafter Thou'lt know what I do."

 

As we travel thro' life's shadow'd valley,
    Fresh springs of His love ever rise;
And we learn that our sorrows and losses.
    Are blessings just sent in disguise.

 

So we'll follow wherever He leadeth,
    Let the path be dreary or bright;
For we've proved that our God can give comfort;
    Our God can give songs in the night.

Author unknown, Taken from Streams of the Desert by
Mrs. Charles E. Cowman 1925

---Prove me now---
(Malachi 3:10)

Sliding in Sideways

 

I feel like sometimes when the weekends get here, I just slide in sideways to greet them. Do you feel that way? Summer is back, after a couple of 97 degree days we are back into the 100s. It is funny how just a couple of degrees changes things. Not to mention there are fires and the smoke makes every feel hotter and breathing hurts.

I didn't want to talk about air quality. I wanted to share a few of the trees that Ron has been working on. I really liked these. My favorite tree he is still working on, I will show that one when he is finished.

 

This one reminds me of a dancing girl. I don't know why. He makes the little pots too. I like nothing better when it is so hot outside to sit side by side, me sewing and him sketching or getting his wires ready or watching him make pots.

 

This next copper tree was a test for himself to see how fast he could make a tree. He wanted to be able to show people how to make them and he did a few wires and he finished this tree in a couple of hours. Making the pots though take a bit longer. I think it takes about three days to make a pot.

Now this next tree, is my favorite. I think it is so pretty.

This one is a bit bigger than the others. It reminds me of the White Tree of Gondor. In Return of the King. By J.R.R. Tolkien. Notice I didn't say Peter Jackson. The one in the book.
I loved the way he did the roots.

He isn't quite finished with this one, but I thought it was nice to see it before it is completely finished so you can see his work.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend. I hope where ever you are your days are filled with sunshine, and joy. That if the rains come, they will be soon replaced with rainbows.

~Kim~

"Youth has nothing to do with birthdays, only with alivedness of spirit, so even if your hair is grey, Daddy,
you can still be a boy."
---Daddy-Long-Legs, Jean Webster, 1912
( Jean Webster is one of my many favorite authors, and Daddy Long Legs and Dear Enemy, two of my dear favorite books.)