Lost and Found

Last night, while reading my Chicken Soup story just before dropping off to sleep, I saw a rather large (in my peripheral vision it was the size of a small tarantula) spider run up my bed to my pillow. I will not tell you the stream of words that came out of my mouth.

I jumped up out of bed and stripped off my nightgown to make sure it wasn’t hiding on me somewhere and before I started stripping my bed., I put on snug fitting pajamas just so I would know for certain I had nothing on me.  I then got out the vacuum and tried to move the bed. It weighs a ton and I was shaking so much my strength was missing. I gave up and went to sleep on the sofa for all of four hours.

Camellia to take your mind off spiders.

What does this tell me? I need to do some more cleaning out. I have been continuing to purge since Alys’ visit but last night set up a more in-depth purge. I had bags of fabric (hiding) under my bookcase headboard that I’ve been wondering where it should go. After pushing the bed out and dragging all those plastic bags of “I’m gonna” fabrics out, they are now in the thrift store box. Vacuuming and searching brought no results for the spider so I’m still quite jumpy.

Bags in the going box

 

Going through bags to go

I will admit that going through things is a good idea and have been bragging to anyone who would listen about my Alys adventure. I was looking through a bag on it’s way to the thrift store when I found a treasure rolled up in other things. My mother had finished this needlepoint for me well before my move to Arizona in 1999. I couldn’t figure needlepoint out but mom excelled at it and I loved the design. With everything that happened during the ensuing years, this needlepoint went missing. When I showed it to my daughter, she was stunned and agreed that it had to be framed and hung. She helped me to pick the mating and frame since it will one day grace her walls.

My mother’s handwork more than 20 years old

 

On the wall where it belongs.

My Alys worship affected one of my sewing friends who frequently spoke about buying a new, easy to carry machine. She knew just what she wanted and was going to go shopping. But first she had to do a little closet cleaning so there would be room for her machine. At the next gathering of our sewing group, she had to do a show and tell. It was her new machine and it’s little carrying case…that she found in the back of her closet! It had been there so long, she had to refresh herself on how to use it. Of course, we had to help her get it all figured out so she could quickly enjoy her find.

All the stitches she needs

It even had a case

I’m having a glass of wine tonight in hopes of a real night’s sleep. Cheers.

good stories start with alcohol

Have you ever lost things only to find them years later right where you put them? What does it take to get you to part with things that you “were gonna” use? Hopefully not a big spider.

From my heart to yours,

Marlene Herself

 

In Search of a Retreat

I was invited to join some quilters I know to a retreat. What is a retreat? I had no clue. Never having been to one, I was a bit nervous (TERRIFIED actually). I’ve never been to a girl’s slumber party or anything of that nature. I’ve heard of them but the opportunity never presented itself. The only people I’ve ever shared a room with was my sister, daughter and mother.

Abby, who runs the place and everyone in it.

I was told they would sew all day long except to eat and sleep. How was I going to fit in with my vision limited to a few hours of good sewing time at best? I almost backed out.

In the dining room the wall hanging welcomes you to your meal.

My friend, Emily, picked me up at 9 a.m. and drove another woman I had never met and myself the 45 minutes to Vancouver, Washington. I met Emily a few months ago and she and all the rest of the ladies going are quite well experienced quilters. I am not. We shall leave it at that.

More tools and inspiration.

The retreat began with an introduction to the quilting room. There were only eight of us which gave each of us an entire table to ourselves. We could really spread out and we did. Machines were up in a flash and suitcases set aside for later. The room was simple but filled with everything necessary.

Any size, shape or style was available and most were needed.

Fabric by the fat-quarter or the bolt and even scraps should we need them were in every corner. Books, magazines for ideas and inspiration, and quilts hung in any spare spot that didn’t have a design flannel board. There were cutting tables, tools and ironing boards already set up for us.

Just a small sample of what was there.

We won’t mention the copious amount of snack foods, coffee machines, (drip and Keurig) tea and the list goes on. So will my words in this post, so bear with me please.

a scrumptious concoction created by our hostess

home made banana bread

This place was the home of Nancy Fosburgh. She had stopped by to rent the barn for more space to manufacture her traveling ironing boards for quilters as the business had outgrown her garage. Nancy is a master quilter and instructor. She ended up leasing the whole house and the barn set on 10 acres. Nancy takes care of it with a little help from family and kind friends, many of whom are avid quilters as well.

Nancy fixed our toilet herself

Nancy is one of those women that make the energizer bunny look like a slacker. A strong, single mother of three now adult children, and an entrepreneur, her avocations have become a dream come true vocation.

Where the work and fun happen.

A lovely walk to the house for dinner and rest

The food Nancy prepared for us was phenomenal to say the very least. I must admit here that I’m a fussy eater. Childish, I know, but too true. I turn my nose up at so many things, though I am more open now than ever before. I will tell you I ate asparagus this week for the second time in my life. It’s the first time I liked the taste. Nancy was experimenting on us and can continue to do so forever on me.

Nancy’s simple quilt we can pattern some charity quilts after.

I went to bed one night aching from the amount I could not let pass me by. Scones and Devonshire cream, German pear pancakes or egg casserole with fresh fruit for breakfast, lunches had everything from sandwiches all homemade to soup. I was still groaning when we came in from sewing for dinner but I turned nothing away. Everything was homemade and scrumptious. If this quilting thing doesn’t pan out for her, the cooking thing surely will. I’d like to volunteer to help write her cookbook.

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We also learned a new craft from one of her volunteers, Linda. Round boxes made of paper. We all worked hard on those too.

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My fellow quilters were so patient with my learning curve and even took a square that I could no longer look at and finished it for me. I found a walking friend to keep working the kinks out and enjoy the beautiful scenery. No one complained that I was first each night to retire to bed with my journal.

Emily’s selvedge quilt. Made of strips from the edges of fabric

They come together in such a fun way.

Emily finished 36 of these to be appliqued and then joined and quilted

You really get to know people when you share a room. Half of us liked the window open so we shared a room, those that did not, shared another. There was no rowdiness at bedtime. We’d had our wine at our machines as we worked and bedtime was for rest.

4 of us with the window open for a great nights sleep

Another of the bedrooms. Too cute.

Our favorite pot stirrer, (picture an imp) managed to keep us on our toes and giggling. Patti would point out near invisible threads left on the ironing board so someone (the culprit who left them behind) would make a big show of getting out the blue tape to make sure it was properly cleaned.

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I don’t know about other retreats but this one brought some real bonding.

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I know there are writing retreats, spiritual retreats, spa retreats but I don’t know that any would have all the elements that this one had. I witnessed a vast amount of comradery, creativity, generosity, and fun.

Arlene on Bottom Left made these for granddaughters musical. We thought it would be fun to pray for more wine.

Would I do it again? In half a heartbeat. What is your idea of a retreat?

From my heart to yours,
Marlene Herself

In Search of Something to Say

While trying to re-evaluate the purpose of why I blog, I had to look at the many ways it has helped me. The original intent was to find anyone that had a similar experience to mine with Bells Palsy. I wanted answers and help in recovering from this very debilitating illness.

What I received from this blog was something different altogether. Being a very private person who works hard to keep emotions and personal matters to myself or in my journal, I have been forced to go outside my comfort zone by putting myself out there for scrutiny and possible criticism. Bloggers, it turns out, are a kind and encouraging group of people. They have helped me to grow and thereby continue to heal.

I have heard from great writers who are willing to share their skills and be patient with mine. I have heard from crafters, gardeners, teenagers and grandmothers. As a person whose world has become so much smaller due to this illness, several moves and a divorce resulting in a loss of extended family as well as friends, I have found a community that is willing to share themselves with me. I want them all to know how much I appreciate their encouragement. They didn’t even need to have a similar experience in life to be available for someone else.

Now that I’m driving a bit more, changing my focus from illness to wellness and living a full life, what will I have to say to you? I’m not sure I have an answer yet. Maybe you can let me know if anything I have to say moves you.

My last husband was a talker which I think is rare for a man. Every thought in his head came out of his mouth. You remember the cartoon bubbles that had blab, blab, blab written in them? That’s kind of how it seemed but I always listened anyway because you never knew if there was a grain of something important in that monologue. I became silent during that marriage because he was so busy talking, there was no listening (on his part). That’s when I began to write in journals. I want my writing now to be like my conversations; clear and to the point. I’m not full of fluff and flowery speech. I have friends who write beautiful, flowery prose. I envy them and enjoy reading their work. It’s just not me. I’m a Virgo if that clears up anything.

My interests are as varied as quantum physics (did you know time may be slowing down even though it feels like it’s speeding up) to quilting. I have moved over 30 times, lived in 3 countries and 10 states. I love technology and learning about Facebook, Pinterest, my Droid and now blogging. There is a lot of information out there. It gets a little harder to absorb as I get older. I love reading almost anything but romance for obvious reasons (twice divorced and done). In all of that, do I have anything to say? I don’t want to babble about unimportant things. Silence is golden especially when you don’t have it. I have an aversion to diarrhea of the mouth.

There are many things I feel strongly about. Mistreatment of animals can send me over the edge. They have no voice to say they are being abused or neglected. How we care for our planet is another big one. I am an organic gardener composting all our green waste. My son is thrilled with all the holes I’ve dug in his yard. I kill weeds and unwanted grasses with hot water and vinegar. Works like a charm.

Education shouldn’t stop when you get out of high school. Although college was not an option for me for many reasons, I believe in continued self-education. Books are too easy to come by and all of you are there to explain if I don’t understand something on my own. Learning is the most important thing in my life. I always said if I don’t learn something new each day, just close the lid because I must be dead.

Life is good and I have nothing to whine about except that I have no one to drink a glass of wine with. My son doesn’t drink and I refuse to drink alone. Where did he come from? He couldn’t have come from this German who had beer in a baby bottle. So I will move on to other subjects more often than not. Writing is at the top of my list right now. I was making up limericks for class at 4:00 in the morning on the notebook that lives in my bed. I didn’t even know what a limerick was till last week. Maybe I’ll even learn to write poetry. Short and to the point poetry.

From my heart to yours,
Marlene