bee creative

windfall

There has been two windstorms now and I've begun to collect branches for a windfall wreath. They may not be fresh enough to use by December, but maybe...

Temperatures are dropping.

Lola is stealing any blanket she can to snuggle up in.

Or robes. Or sweaters.

When she is really cold she pushes her way under them.

The fireplace is being turned on occasionally.

I am considering a challenge of images leaning towards black, white, and gray during November for all posts. 

Altered, as each season alters the landscape, our habits and choices.

truth in the dark

It's dark again this morning, as it will be now that the days become shorter.

But not stormy, at least right now.

Working on quilt squares; finishing the hand stitching on one, starting another.

This (#1) is how the camera took the photo, unaltered.

This (#2) feels more true to the moment.

I like this one (#3),

And this one (#4), for the  change in perspective. 

A possible different story.

dark rainy mornings

Thundershowers again this morning.

I've been untangling a skein of yarn and listening to "On Being." 

The latest episode is "Poetry Unbound" and has so much. 

Maybe the most important to me, at least at this very moment:

"Poetry is a fairly solitary art. While it can, sometimes, get shared in books or in readings, mostly poems are written by a person, alone, with a computer or with a pen or a pencil. And that can be lonely, but, also, it can be a magnificent way to find a language that suits yourself, in those alone hours, maybe in the morning, maybe late at night. But, in so doing, you can find a language for yourself that can help you survive." Pádraig Ó Tuama

 

verbs

Rumination (thinking about cows digesting not obsessive thinking), fermentation, thinking, composting, pondering, processing, making, creating...

List making,

verbs of transition.

Actions.

Monday's windstorm dried the leaves on the shrubs.

Windburn.

I am home today, had considered going to the park that runs along the bay to sit and knit; early in the morning, before it might be crowded.

But...the air quality seems to be getting worse, not better. And again, after days of wearing a mask I want a day off.

There is the dehydrator to load up with plums, celery, a bit of kale, maybe some more carrots, a few more tomatoes.  I am stocking up a bit more than I usually do to make it through the winter eating locally. 

The goal for the weekend is to deal with a stack of scraps piled in the living room.

Another Good Enough COVID 19 square.  In reds, oranges and gray...a wildfire square.

And I will knit more, both on the poncho of seawater blue/green that makes me think of smoky skies now too and the next sweater that I have started.

Stir the indigo vat, put more fiber in.

I like that indigo dyed yarn stains wooden needles as it rubs along.

 

 

hearts

Another old journal page, cut into a heart and then glued on top of a doodle in my current journal.

Lola's heart patch.

Since reading Jude's post this morning I've been thinking about the word "love."  I don't think it's possible to use it too much with the people that matter to us (making sure that people know they are important, that they are valued, that they matter), but it is possible to use it too much as praise. It can get all messed up with validation and motivation.  Especially with young people.

And yet it always is something that I appreciate hearing. And there are things we, as a species, don't love enough (planet Earth for example).

It's a slippery word. 

Still thinking...

 

light and dark

I much prefer to take pictures outside, with as much natural light as possible. 

A couple mornings ago I was looking at an orchid that had been given to me and that I had placed in the window and thought, "Why not?"

Unaltered.

Layered.

Layered and with a filter.

The filter actually makes the screen behind the orchid visible.

And something full of light, not in the dark, a "Non-stop Begonia."

That might be an exaggeration, but it sure is reliable.

They both lift my spirits.

#116 the sweater & something sweet

A pledge: I will never guess how long it will take me to finish a sweater ever again.

Could I finish it this weekend?  Yes.

Will I? I couldn't say...

The something sweet:

We've had baby bunnies in the preschool garden.  One of the children found this one eating green beans.

 

 

#99 party line

Something recently made me remember one of my great grandmothers had a party line. 

I vaguely remember getting in trouble with my brothers for listening in on someone's conversation when we were kids.  We were more use to a single party line or the radio on the boat. 

A party line, well that was fascinating...

This was my last hardwired phone.

I bought it at an antique store and used it for a few years.

And now there is a cell phone that takes pictures among other things...

Who would have thought?

"Scotty, Beam me up."

(just in case.)

#90 self portrait

I found a box of old journals. 

Read through the one I wrote when I was 17-18 years old.

Cut it up.

Reassembled it.

Thinking about how some things don't change.

And some do.

#78 enough

This weekend I spent some time looking back over the last 77 posts.

Thinking about enough.

Enough time.

Enough resources.

Letting things be good enough.

(After 7 or 8 dips this is blue enough)

Enough as in "all done".

(Hazel says "Enough, time to cuddle.")

 

What is enough to keep children safe? To keep each other safe?

So much depends on...

Enough.