Wednesday, September 06, 2017


ABC Wednesday
September 6th, 2017

The letter is I, for INDIGO

by Barbara Strang

To achieve the
desired blue

the cloth had to
be lifted in
and out of the vats

in the heat
of India, Nigeria,
or Thailand.

Indigo, - you used
to wear that deep-dyed hue,
it suited you.

The name for the
spectral blue-violet.

as blue as
deep as your eyes,

the lashes a flight of geese
on the last stripe of blue as the
sky plunges towards night.

More I s here at ABC Wednesday
with thanks to all who maintain this meme!

Sunday, September 03, 2017

This and that, and then there's the past

Sunday, September the third, 2017

While I have my lunch this very smokey September Sunday I am listening to David Garret as he plays Beethoven's Concerto for Violin and. Orchestra in D with the National Philharmonic of Russia.

Right soloist, right piece of music, but not what is on the DVD I watched.
and I must warn you it is 27 minutes long
but pure pleasure...

 It is a long time since  I have gone through the cupboard Charles made to house all the music we collected over the years; the records, the cassettes, then the DVD audios and movies, as time passed and the media came to us in different forms.  What I really wanted to listen to was the Adagio in seemed somehow fitting when I came in exhausted but satisfied with my morning bringing order (more or less) to the garden...

Sunday...,and I'm not terribly focused.  All week my energies have been concentrated on the loom, with satisfying results now the shuttle is whizzing back and forth through a nice taut warp.

This morning I had a lovely four minute egg with toasted soldiers  (not something my beloved husband would have approved of....dipping your toast in the dripping yolk! ). A second cup of coffee and I browsed a bit in Anna Quindlen's "Lots of Candles - Plenty of Cake".  I ordered three of her books from the library, to re-read because they give me nothing but pleasure and comforting memories.

The quote with which she starts the first chapter.."Life must be lived forward but understood backward" ( Kierkegaard) resounds with me more and more, the longer I live.  Quindlen says "It's. nothing short of astonishing, all that we learn between the time we are born and the time we the laboratory of our lives". But our understanding comes late in life.....

"There comes a time when we finally know what matters, and more importantly, what doesn't".

And then in the next chapter she goes on to talk about the bane of my life.."STUFF". I remember those first sweet innocent days of our marriage when Charles had his uniform, I had my trousseau (sp) and there was a barrel full of wedding gifts to pick up at the train station.

Now I view with despair this great collection of "things" we have accumulated over sixty-seven years of marriage and family and events and treasuring.  I have pretty well limited myself to books, and a little bit of new cotton thread to weave with, since my love departed.

I ponder on ways to get rid of all this STUFF, much of which has so kindly been given to us by our six children, and their offspring, and their offsprings' offsprings.... Do you suppose I could label it all, to be returned on my departure...but how would I remember what came from who, and imagine the uproar if the legacy went to the wrong person.

Well, I will be like Scarlett and worry about that tomorrow  if and when.....

The Beethoven is over now...I think I will make a cup of tea and take it into the loom room and contemplate the beginning of my fourth towel. I have an hour before Radio City comes on Knowledge Network .... Enough time for three or four bobbins to advance the work.....

Maybe by bedtime the smoke from these ferocious wildfires that are all around us will have wafted away with a change of breeze and fresh air will blow through the open window.

And maybe I should be very grateful that it is smoke, and not flames!!!!