a boy with two mamas to love

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my wee boy is happiest out of doors. he loves most everything about it, is at one moment made giddy by it, the next, is made peaceful.

his favorite thing is to sit alone on the grass. he quietly runs his hands over it, picks at it, pulls up longer strands, tears them to teeny bits, & begins again. it's as though he is trying to know the very essence of the grass.

usually we'll find a lovely bit of grass, or a teensy stick, clutched tightly in his hand long after we've come indoors.



the day i took these photos he wanted nothing to do with me & my pesky camera. i was trying to get some good shots of his face, for far-away relatives, but he would have none of it. we were intruders, my camera & i.

finally i gave up trying, & left him to indulge his love of mother nature. i wasn't the least bit jealous that he preferred her to me. well, perhaps a bit...

~peace.

lavender blue, dilly dilly

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poorly lit photo of a birthday crown wip

last night i was working on a birthday crown, when i realized i hadn't any lavender floss. this crown has to match a capelet made by the talented pin pon, so my palette is set: orange, light orange, white, & lavender.

i knew that the color i needed was in the box of floss i'd brought back from my mother's home. until now though, i had not even considered using any of it. as it was, it took me a goodly bit of time to convince myself that it was ok to use a length of lavender.

you see, when i was in oregon, i only took a small box of her gigantic collection of embroidery floss. i honestly don't know why i didn't take it all; it just seemed right at the time, to take a bit as a remembrance. of course i'm kicking myself now. so, the floss has taken on a sort of sacred aura - to be fondled & hoarded. yes, i know i am being silly, but i imagine it's all part of dealing with the loss of my mother.

short story made long; i used a bit if her lavender floss on the crown. it did feel strange to do so. i remembered the countless times i saw her embroider, the gorgeous works of art she created, as well as the silly. my brother & i each had pillow made from our little jeans, with tush, stitched onto the pocket. & no, i don't still have mine :)

some of these memories brought with them a feeling of peace as i worked, others brought immeasurable sadness. i'm told by the (too many) friends who've lost mothers, that this will be the way of it. how ever does one get used to such things?

another poorly lit photo of the birthday crown wip

once i finished, the lavender floss went back into its box, & the whole was placed on its shelf in my sewing nook. that's her writing: 211. i miss her all the more when i see it.

a favorite song from my childhood, that is stuck in my head:

~peace.

journeys in, & with a tin

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before i went to oregon, i asked them to wait on going through my mother's things. i wanted to help sort through it all, touch what was hers, find my way in this new version of my life. i also wanted to make sure that i brought back the things i most wanted.

once there, however, i was extremely overwhelmed. not only by the emotion tangled with the task i'd set for myself, but by the sheer volume of things. my mother wasn't technically a hoarder, but she sure did have a lot. what's more, lot consisted of things i love: books, antiques, sewing & craft supplies.

at first i followed my brother around, looking through the things he'd set aside, or wanted to show me. soon though i wandered, on my own, into my mother's studio. i just stood there, staring at everything, thinking wow. how was i going to do this? how in the hell was i going to go through her things, choose what i wanted, then walk away from it all? from her? forever?

silent tears poured down my face, as i faced the over-stuffed sewing room. just as i was about to fall to pieces, i saw it. the tin. the one you see in the photo up there. her tin. i cannot recall a time in my life where that wasn't in her studio, filled with all sorts of interesting bits & bobs. i saw it & the world around me melted into silence; the kind you see in movies. i knew in that moment that i had to have the tin. i also knew i could do this.

in the days that followed we sorted through their home. my father, brother, sister-in-law & i went through my mother's belongings, looked at old photos, shared memories, laughed, & cried. it was harder than i could have ever imagined, but we did it. we began the long journey of saying good-bye.

in the end i chose to limit what i took for my own: some jewelry, photos, books, odds & ends, & that tin.


that's a photo of the tin's interior. my mother & i were very different people; quite often we did not get along because of this. what you see in that tin is a bit of what did connect us - the things that make a person swoon. in my family, i am now alone. there is nobody left who loves the things i love. who understands the pull of old things, the passion for creating, nor the driving need to write it all down.

in the days leading up to my mother's passing, i imagined all the things that would change. what i didn't realize was that everything changes. how i see things, what i think, who i am in the world! all of it changed the moment she took her last breath.

funny, isn't it? how much can be found
in a battered, old tin?

~peace.

into the wilds

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this was as far into thefarm as i could get. the weeds became too tall & thick to walk through. & dangerous! do you see that plant on the right? i have no idea what it is, but it is covered in thorns!

before you oooh & ahhh at the the lush lilac trees, i must tell you: they are not lilacs. i know! i made the same mistake when we first moved in. they are, in fact, extremely aggressive, horridly nasty plants that we were told came from australia.

they too have nasty thorns, & they spread rapidly beneath the ground. because they come from an arid region, they thrive on my foggy little hill. did we not pull them constantly, they would turn into the gigantic trees you see in the photo.

those belong to our neighbors, fortunately. we do have a mini forest of our own in need of hacking down, but not nearly as tall as those. i think our tallest nasty plant is 8ft, whilst theirs top 15.

i took the photo to show how insanely overgrown things are back there. i was actually standing in a veggie bed when i took it. the longer i stood there, the more my heart ached. they do give the illusion of lilacs. my mother loved her lilacs. they were in full bloom the week we were at their home. how sad she was not there to see.

will i think about those lilacs each time i see the forest of nasties? i'm not sure how i feel about that. i'm not sure how i feel about a great many things these days. my mind is a wild tangle of thoughts & emotions, much like the plants in the photo.

this is all so much harder than than i thought it would be.

~peace.

keeping busy

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thank you for your lovely comments & emails about my mother's passing. i've said it before, & i'll say it again; i have the best readers in all of blogland. truly.

to those who've asked; as is expected, i am slowly falling to pieces. fortunately i have an amazing support system (including you), & manlyman walks behind me, picking up my pieces as they fall. it also helps that i have my sweet boys to focus on.

we'll be heading to oregon late next week to be with my father, & my brother (& his beautiful womenfolk). until then i'm trying to keep busy. i want to finish & ship a consignment order (more about that later), & ship my recent sales before heading out. i am sure none would mind a delay, but the work is helping take my mind off of the ache in my heart.

speaking of sales: when i told my fellow natural kids about my mother, i also asked for fund-raising ideas (for our train fare to oregon). instead of ideas, they sent donations, & bought items from my esty shop! i'm still trying to wrap my head around being on the receiving end of such kindness & generosity. please help me thank them by visiting their shops - click on the natural kids button over there ----->

have a lovely one, do.

~peace.