Does this ever happen to you?
On my way to my day job (sigh), traffic was surprisingly light. The sun was only medium bright, and the temperature was already in the mid-70's - not bad for July in Georgia. In other words, just a lovely day in the making. A Bob Seger CD was cranked up loud that I was singing along to, back windows down...and then it hit me.
That old urge to wander. Far.
Only a couple of miles to I-75, turn left and go...home to Michigan. Or, turn right and go south to a Florida beach and be lazy.
Oh the possibilities!
For a moment I let myself embrace the idea of either visiting family I miss so much, along with freighter-watching, fog horns, channel marker bells, waterfalls and the piney woods "up North". Or, turn the other way to the delicious, fresh seafood of the Gulf, sitting in a chair on the white sands, watching waves and enjoying total relaxation under the hot sun, baking away my cares and woes.
I could imagine myself standing at the edge of Lake Superior, only the soft sound of waves lapping gently at my feet, the scent of pine and clean water mixing in the cool air, a hot cup of coffee in my hand and peace in my heart.
On the other hand, I could see myself on the Gulf coast, in a comfortable reclining chair under a big umbrella, bigger waves rolling unto the white sandy beach, the scent of salty sea water in the air with laughing children building their sandcastles nearby and seagulls squawking overhead.
Oh the choices I could make.
With the turn into work fast approaching, reality and responsibility took over. I made the turn, parked by car, and went on in.
Daydream over for now.
I wrote the above a bit ago, as I debated, agonized and struggled with a life-changing decision of whether or not to leave the security of my day job to grow Gypsy Wind Designs. Honestly, there were many sleepless nights, maybe even a few tears, and much talking with my patient and supportive husband over the time before the final step was taken.
All the angst was worth it - I do not regret for one moment the decision to make that leap, and truly I embrace the challenge I've made for myself.
Now the hum of my Janome is music to my ears - Michigan or Florida will have to wait a little more.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Here a Stitchery... there a Stitchery!
While it is true that one of my favorite things is sitting down at my beloved Janome with a piece of beautiful fabric and creating something, I really love making stitcheries.
The whole process – drawing words or pictures with a water-soluble pen, sorting through my stash of floss for the perfect colors, and then the actual stitching – is just so relaxing and enjoyable. Because I work in a country primitive style, the words are not always perfectly straight and the figures don’t have to be photographic quality. Cats and houses, words and pumpkins, snowmen and snowladies – anything my imagination leads me to. It’s just plain fun!
Psychologists should explore the relaxing effects of the backstitch. Sewing a picture has to be therapeutic. No matter the stresses of the day or the noises around me, watching the needle moving and creating is almost meditative.
I remember back a number of years ago, at a show my husband and I did in a Kansas City, KS suburb. I was arranging pillows stitched with clever sayings in what I hoped was an artistic display when a couple of fellow crafters wandered by. Both ladies stopped, aghast, and said, “Oh my, those will never sell. We’ve never seen anything like that before….”
I sold out.
And I was hooked on stitcheries from then on. Not just because they all sold, but because I could do something I truly loved to do and share it with others. I will never lose the thrill I feel when someone sees something I’ve created and their face lights up as they reach for it.
I am truly blessed.
The whole process – drawing words or pictures with a water-soluble pen, sorting through my stash of floss for the perfect colors, and then the actual stitching – is just so relaxing and enjoyable. Because I work in a country primitive style, the words are not always perfectly straight and the figures don’t have to be photographic quality. Cats and houses, words and pumpkins, snowmen and snowladies – anything my imagination leads me to. It’s just plain fun!
Psychologists should explore the relaxing effects of the backstitch. Sewing a picture has to be therapeutic. No matter the stresses of the day or the noises around me, watching the needle moving and creating is almost meditative.
I remember back a number of years ago, at a show my husband and I did in a Kansas City, KS suburb. I was arranging pillows stitched with clever sayings in what I hoped was an artistic display when a couple of fellow crafters wandered by. Both ladies stopped, aghast, and said, “Oh my, those will never sell. We’ve never seen anything like that before….”
I sold out.
And I was hooked on stitcheries from then on. Not just because they all sold, but because I could do something I truly loved to do and share it with others. I will never lose the thrill I feel when someone sees something I’ve created and their face lights up as they reach for it.
I am truly blessed.
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| All I need is muslin, warm and natural batting, a disappearing marker and an idea. |
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| Ready to stitch! |
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| Stitching...love this part! |
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| All pressed and trimmed - this stitchery is ready to be made into a pillow. This beautiful fabric is called Blueberry Crumb Cake - just perfect for a little country style pillow! |
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| Finished! |
Road Trips
Until just a few months ago, my husband was an owner-operator. This meant he had a big blue hole on shiny chrome wheels that he poured money into. But that’s another story for another day.
Over the years, when I felt the urge to wander around the country some, I’d pack a bag and hop aboard for a week or two, vacation time and circumstances permitting. When the girls were younger, both did the same when summer vacation turned into summer boredom or the need for adventure became too strong to ignore.
Last time was for a couple of weeks over winter shutdown for my day job. Had a lot of fun seeing the St. Louis arch in a snowstorm, upside down cars in Iowa – a result of the same snowstorm – and frozen farms in Nebraska.
The Rockies are breathtaking in the winter in more ways than one, and western Kansas is still flat – except where the snow piled up. I finally got to see Texas Canyon in Benson, AZ, where our younger daughter loved to play as a child, and lots of wild antelope and coyotes.
It’s really not a bad way to travel if you don’t mind the close quarters and constant rumble of the big diesel engine. With the very necessary coffee pot, microwave, toaster oven, crockpot and refrigerator, it’s much like having a micro-kitchen very close at hand. The desk makes a perfect dining table, too.
Over the years, we’ve had some truly awesome candle-lit dinners under the stars in places I’d not have ever thought I’d be, and without anyone for miles around us. I remember one particular evening we pulled off a remote country road and grilled out by the bright light of a full moon, with the hood of the truck nosed up to a “Welcome to Texas” sign…
My husband can be quite the romantic.
It’s also a great way to find quilt shops in places I’d normally not be, and fabrics I don’t find here at home. I never ever leave home without my pathetically worn and dog eared copy of The Quilter’s Travel Companion, especially on cross country trips. Just thinking of the opportunity to visit some of my favorites in Overland Park, KS, Omaha, NE, Denver, CO and more, makes me misty-eyed.
Yes – my best beloved took me fabric shopping in his Western Star. I only had to promise not to fill the entire truck with bolts of fabric. It worked out well.
Its’ been a while since I’ve felt the urge to wander, but it’s starting up again, niggling in the back of my mind and softly whispering in my ear. I keep hearing what sounds like Moda, Red Rooster, Joel Dewberry, French General over and over and over.
So – once again, I am forced to admit – I am a fabric-aholic!
Over the years, when I felt the urge to wander around the country some, I’d pack a bag and hop aboard for a week or two, vacation time and circumstances permitting. When the girls were younger, both did the same when summer vacation turned into summer boredom or the need for adventure became too strong to ignore.
Last time was for a couple of weeks over winter shutdown for my day job. Had a lot of fun seeing the St. Louis arch in a snowstorm, upside down cars in Iowa – a result of the same snowstorm – and frozen farms in Nebraska.
 |
| It's hard to see - but yes, The Arch is there |
The Rockies are breathtaking in the winter in more ways than one, and western Kansas is still flat – except where the snow piled up. I finally got to see Texas Canyon in Benson, AZ, where our younger daughter loved to play as a child, and lots of wild antelope and coyotes.
 |
| Our daughter still remembers playing on these very rocks as a child. |
It’s really not a bad way to travel if you don’t mind the close quarters and constant rumble of the big diesel engine. With the very necessary coffee pot, microwave, toaster oven, crockpot and refrigerator, it’s much like having a micro-kitchen very close at hand. The desk makes a perfect dining table, too.
Over the years, we’ve had some truly awesome candle-lit dinners under the stars in places I’d not have ever thought I’d be, and without anyone for miles around us. I remember one particular evening we pulled off a remote country road and grilled out by the bright light of a full moon, with the hood of the truck nosed up to a “Welcome to Texas” sign…
My husband can be quite the romantic.
It’s also a great way to find quilt shops in places I’d normally not be, and fabrics I don’t find here at home. I never ever leave home without my pathetically worn and dog eared copy of The Quilter’s Travel Companion, especially on cross country trips. Just thinking of the opportunity to visit some of my favorites in Overland Park, KS, Omaha, NE, Denver, CO and more, makes me misty-eyed.
Yes – my best beloved took me fabric shopping in his Western Star. I only had to promise not to fill the entire truck with bolts of fabric. It worked out well.
Its’ been a while since I’ve felt the urge to wander, but it’s starting up again, niggling in the back of my mind and softly whispering in my ear. I keep hearing what sounds like Moda, Red Rooster, Joel Dewberry, French General over and over and over.
So – once again, I am forced to admit – I am a fabric-aholic!
 |
| A frozen Nebraska farm |
Happy Endings Happen!
After a long and sad two year separation, my love and I have reunited! It is with great joy that I announce this reconciliation, and I have vowed not to go through that agony ever again.
It began when, in some moment of apparent insanity, I decided that Gevalia coffee was just too expensive so I stopped my monthly deliveries and cancelled my membership.
What was I thinking?
My coffee addiction has long been documented. I live for that perfect mug of coffee to begin my day and perk up my afternoons. In times of stress, I find comfort in a (huge) cup of Royal Vinter or Stockholm or Café Sperl. Yes…tea is nice too, but I truly love a cup of steaming hot, fragrant coffee.
Maybe crave is a better word. Maybe.
In the approximately 730 days since cancellation of my Gevalia membership, I cannot say I did not have a nice cup of coffee. Truthfully, some were pretty good. For a while I thought I might have found a suitable (read less expensive) substitution. In other words, I really did try to feed my addiction with other coffees.
Then, the Gevalia ads began on television, inviting me to have a cup of Johann. Oh my. The morning cup of joe became even less satisfying as the comparison crept around the corners of my mind and niggled at my taste buds. When I came home to a “We miss you” invitation to come back to the Gevalia coffee club in my mailbox, I saw the stars aligning, heard angelic choirs singing, felt the earth moving…fate was calling but I still didn’t listen.
But I did save the mailing.
Last night, I actually dreamt of a large mug of Gevalia coffee. Yes, I really did; no, Johann was not serving it, but the die was cast.
First thing this morning I rejoined Gevalia, and this time it’s for life. Like a good marriage, coffee is forever!
It began when, in some moment of apparent insanity, I decided that Gevalia coffee was just too expensive so I stopped my monthly deliveries and cancelled my membership.
What was I thinking?
My coffee addiction has long been documented. I live for that perfect mug of coffee to begin my day and perk up my afternoons. In times of stress, I find comfort in a (huge) cup of Royal Vinter or Stockholm or Café Sperl. Yes…tea is nice too, but I truly love a cup of steaming hot, fragrant coffee.
Maybe crave is a better word. Maybe.
In the approximately 730 days since cancellation of my Gevalia membership, I cannot say I did not have a nice cup of coffee. Truthfully, some were pretty good. For a while I thought I might have found a suitable (read less expensive) substitution. In other words, I really did try to feed my addiction with other coffees.
Then, the Gevalia ads began on television, inviting me to have a cup of Johann. Oh my. The morning cup of joe became even less satisfying as the comparison crept around the corners of my mind and niggled at my taste buds. When I came home to a “We miss you” invitation to come back to the Gevalia coffee club in my mailbox, I saw the stars aligning, heard angelic choirs singing, felt the earth moving…fate was calling but I still didn’t listen.
But I did save the mailing.
Last night, I actually dreamt of a large mug of Gevalia coffee. Yes, I really did; no, Johann was not serving it, but the die was cast.
First thing this morning I rejoined Gevalia, and this time it’s for life. Like a good marriage, coffee is forever!
Monday, August 13, 2012
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