Mea Culpa…

Forgive me dear readers, I have been quite remiss in blogging.  This is probably the longest I have gone without a  post since I started this blog in 2008.  My days are not my own.  And I forgive myself for that, my life is not what I expected it to be, and know that that’s OK.  My husband died less than 6 weeks ago, and my days are spent doing things I sometimes I don’t enjoy, don’t want to be doing, but those things are very very necessary to put me in a really good place.  And I don’t do them alone.  Trust me…  But I also try to have some fun…

A couple of weeks ago, my lovely weaving buddy Sally and I ventured into Manhattan.  We had a list to accomplish, starting at one end of Manhattan and ending up at the other.  We came, we saw, and we definitely conquered, though it was questionable on the 6 train down to lower Manhattan, packed like sardines into the subway car standing room only,  where the temperature was probably close to 125 degrees.

We started with a walk across Central Park to the MET, where we saw the current masterpiece exhibit, Manus X Machina, a gorgeous tribute and comparison of work by hand vs. work by machine.  It was a thoughtful and inspiring exhibit, highly recommend it, and whenever I attend a costume exhibit at the MET, I always feel reverential and that I should genuflect at every garment.  Truly a breathtaking installation.  I was surprised at what was being done with 3-D printing, the lace work is pretty revolutionary though not always attractive, especially when you are a lacemaker.  Just saying…

We walked up to the Jewish Museum to see a lovely retrospective of Isaac Mizrahi’s work.  I adore him as a designer and a TV personality, you’ll remember him as a Project Runway All-Stars judge. The show closes August 7th.  Then we headed down to Tender Buttons.  I had a mission.  I needed buttons for the stalled plaid coat I was working on. I couldn’t progress unless I could make the bound buttonholes.  To do them I needed the buttons.  Though I usually have plenty of buttons to chose from in my stash, I did not have three large statement buttons with six smaller matching ones, for the sleeve vents.  That combination is pretty hard to find, even at Tender Buttons, unless you go with the standard blazer button.  Sally and I searched high and low, and after sort of settling on something we thought would be OK, but really was just OK, Sally pulled a box from a different area and I was enchanted.  They are wrapped rayon passementerie buttons, and they made the rest of the coat sing.  Well the rest of the coat was singing anyway, but I was happy.

I made two mistakes.  The first was not remembering that Tender Buttons does not take credit cards.  My little purchase of 9 buttons was $46.  We were scraping pennies together.  I happily took my little brown bag, tucked it in my purse and went on my way.  When I returned home, and actually looked at the buttons on the coat under my studio lighting, I realized my second mistake.  Never buy buttons at Tender Buttons without taking them outside into the light first to inspect.  I had two large navy buttons, and one black one.  Completely indiscernable in the light available in the long windowless store.  I called them on Monday, and immediately sent the black button back, and it took until this Friday to get the replacement.  Still, I am really happy with what I selected.  See for yourself.  And that’s an acetate jacquard lining I had on my shelf.

We ended up in lower Manhattan, at a lovely exhibit which included works by my fiber friend Diane Savona.  The space was gorgeous, and it did her work justice.  The Buddy Warren Gallery is down off Spring Street, and the show is on until the end of August.  I have to thank my friend Sally for all the photos, I did not take a single shot.  I don’t know why.

And so dear readers, my days are sometimes filled with fun adventures, like my trip to NYC, and a visit from my fiber and college friend Carol, who came earlier in the week to visit, in from California, with a couple of 16 magazines, which she found while cleaning out her father’s house.  We just had the best time remembering what life was like as a teen, Davy Jones, Barnabas Collins, Bobby Sherman, the Cowsills, and of course David Cassidy.  And of course the Mod Squad…  My daughter was appalled.  I thought she would give herself an eye spasm from rolling her eyes so much.

Those fun adventures are countered with the not so fun of paperwork hell, all of which is essential to make sure I’m financial secure moving forward, and changing over things to my name, closing accounts, and figuring out the passwords to things so emails come to me and not my late husband.  Fortunately I’m organized and good that this sort of thing, I’ve run a tight organized business since 1979, but I hate paperwork with a passion.  I’d rather be weaving.

And there is the clean out.  We are proceeding slowly.  Rest assured.  I know Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I am waiting for help to tackle any of this.  But when help is offered, I take full advantage.  There were three people here last Wednesday, my gardener, yes I hired a college kid to help with all that, who was hauling garbage up from the back of the property,  Kevin’s close friend Artie, who was here to repair the alarm system but started to clear out part of my basement since he couldn’t get to the alarm panel.  And my daughter’s HS friend, who is your basic computer geek who was there to help make sense of all the computer components around the house.  This is just what was pulled from the basement in an afternoon.  Then I have to sort and figure out what to do with it all, and no, I don’t have all the time in the world to do that because we are experiencing violent thunderstorms every couple of days.  There isn’t room in the driveway nor the garage, which has its own issues, for the contents of a different part of the house.

Mostly I toss.  My poor garbage men groan at 5am when they come by twice a week and see a dozen large and heavy trashbags at the street.  I make daily runs to the dump, sometimes 2-3 a day.  And on Saturday’s there is a bulk compactor where I can throw away large unwanted things I can’t put in the regular trash. Sadly I’m only limited to two trips a day for the bulk compactor. I sort out what to give to Goodwill, where I make trips every other day or so.  And there is always the odd thing that someone actually wants, and I hold on to that until it can be claimed.  I need very little of any of it.  And I’m even starting to be ruthless in my studio.  I open a drawer, and realize that I haven’t looked at the contents in 15 years.  I don’t need it.  It is cathartic, freeing, and the house feels lighter and easier, the air more breathable.

And then there is the harvest.  My husband had started seeds for all the vegetables he wanted to grow this year, back in the spring before he went into the hospital.  I felt an obligation to see his vegetable gardens through this season though I doubt very much I’ll continue the practice.  Harvesting enough produce to feed a family of four for weeks, isn’t my idea of fun.  I know there is nothing like home grown produce, but farmers markets are everywhere, this is the Garden State, and I don’t need to be making zucchini bread or refrigerator pickles when I’d rather be sewing.  This is what I did this morning…

Which leaves me little time to do what I love, and I’m on a race to finish this coat and move on to reworking my vest patterns before the fall travel starts, which is in a mere three weeks.  I have a busy fall, and am looking forward to my classes, seeing my fiber friends and family, and reconnecting with what defines me and makes me happy.  It has been a long and difficult year and I know you are all waiting for me on the other end of it.  So here is the handwoven tartan trench, almost ready to ship down to the Blue Ridge Fiber Show in Asheville, I just have to finish the sleeve linings, sew on the buttons, now that I have three navy ones, and remove all the tailor’s tacks and basting.

Stay tuned…