Wednesday, May 27, 2020

timeless play


It is unbelievable to me that this picture of my apple-cheeked Aunt was snapped nearly 100 years ago. Gadzooks! How can 1927 reach out of the past and clasp me by the hand, here in 2020?
I'm beginning to carve a doll head and wouldn't her little face be the perfect inspiration?
Her trendy bobbed hair.
Her dress, just as at home today as then.
It just takes little bits of fabric to sew a dress for a little bit of a girl, a small project, but Gramma has lovingly trimmed the pocket and collar and cuffs.
Oh my Gramma could tweak fabric and sew magic.
The wagon with hand carved wheels is my Grandfather's contribution to childhood happiness. He was creativity itself, which you needed to be if you lived in the boonies in the 1920's.
A wash tub hangs against the log wall making the most of vertical storage space.
A broom that has swept a thousand sweeps leans tiredly against the door frame.
A Toddler Interrupted gazes sternly at the photo taker.
Timeless play.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

recognizable


After a bunch of this...


And an astonishing bunch of this,
I have shaved my small blocks of wood into something recognizable.


Turns out we all have a certain bird shape somewhere in the back of our mind.


And a certain duck. 


 I loved how something solid could be made to curve and seem to bend.


As with most creating, no one can tell you when you are finished.


You just keep on until it seems the right time to stop.
I will definitely keep on with these two although the end is just around the bend. 
In keeping with a new passion I am already on to the next.
It will be a giant leap.


My great gramma Minerva carved wooden dolls for my Mother and her sisters nearly 100 years ago.
I'm hoping she would have been pleased to see me try.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

seeing



My husband has carved some pretty amazing ducks and birds but it is these little whittled creatures that I love the most. His ducks ripple with life, their feathers etched and curving, eyes agleam, and they are truly beautiful, but I love to SEE the marks of the knife. I love to SEE the grain of the wood. I love to SEE through the eyes of the carver.

Monday, May 18, 2020

oh no

We were heading out to walk in a nearby field while a cat was apparently heading back.
A big orange cat.
Its step was brisk.
Its head high.
In its mouth it held....?
Was it a fat mouse for dinner?
My husband said he thought for a moment that the cat was carrying a kitten, but realized with horror that it had a grip on something, a death grip.
We both exclaimed at the same time.
"Oh no!"
"How sad!"
"Oh no, not a baby bunny!"
Dinner in for the cat.
Tragedy for the bunny.

It seemed especially sad because just the day before, while weeding in the yard, my husband suddenly appeared beside me. "Come quick," he had whispered.
"Why?" I said skeptically.
"Just come," he added, his voice urgent.
"What is it," I asked suspiciously, hesitantly following.
And oh my, there in a tiny little space was a tiny little rabbit.
Oh it was the tiniest little bunny I had ever seen.
It would have fit so nicely on the palm of my hand.
We summoned the grandchildren who each crept as close as could be and peered down into the brown eyes.
They raced off and returned with snippets of carrot.
The baby made a tiny hop under a fern and we were parents crowing over a babies first step.
So sweet and tiny.
Soft and wild.
Be careful little one.
Stay under our hydrangea and keep in the shadow of the fern.   

Saturday, May 16, 2020

happy things





something to show

I've been hand sewing.
Needle stab, pull, jab, stretch, untangle, jab, tug, knot.
It's been distractingly satisfying.
Except for when I stitched the little felt hamster up without stuffing the feet first.
Or made two left legs for the frog.
Or forgot gussets.
My right wrist has wavered back and forth so many times I could have conducted Opus Clavicembalisticum.
( I looked that up. It is the longest piece of piano music you can imagine)
But I have something to show for my suffering. (more than can be said for the audience listening to the entire Opus Clav)




Monday, May 11, 2020

practice run




My granddaughter wished I would make her a dress like one I had sewn for her sister's doll.
I'd had a pattern for the doll.
But not for her.
I am 'imagining' how big she is and thinking of this as a practice run.

my whole heart

"Can you make me a hamster Gramma?" she asked, her voice so hopeful.
Requests from Grandchildren are sort of like relay races and the passing of the baton.
Here they come, their eyes bright with hope.
Their arms are stretched out towards you for all they're worth.
Your eyes lock.
You feel the weighty responsibility of trust.
You seize their request with determination.
And off you sprint.
It is up to you now.
You MUST not fail.
The finish line is THERE, just ahead.
You hurl yourself onward.

Abandoning the idea of a crocheted hamster,
I don't crochet,
or a knitted one so sweet,
don't really knit either,
or a felted one,
or a pom pom one...
Wait, a pom pom one!
That could be it!
I didn't have yarn because I neither knit nor crochet but maybe I could GET yarn.
I donned a mask and ventured to a Dollar Store.
I was as socially distant as I could be, standing afar.
Inside at last, I bought the only ball that could remotely be considered hamster-ish.
Smugly clutching a ball of thick and fluffy brown, rust, tan, beige yarn, I hastened home and whipped up a pom pom.
It promptly disintegrated.
Who knew some fluffy yarns are made with fibre threaded onto a center strand.
My hamster would have shed, and molted and been as mangy as can be in no time at all.
The finish line wavered briefly.
Felt!!
There is always felt!
When all else fails, sew.
I rounded the last curve and made a dash for it with my whole heart.

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

blue

Woof? 
He is blue because he has been holding his breath.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

wonders abound



I'm learning to carve!!
My husband kindly cut a blank out of basswood with a birdish shape.
He generously hunted out his carving knife and handed it over.
Turns out you hold the knife just as though you were pealing an apple or potato!
Hey, another rare moment when life itself is a transferable skill!
I have noticed that three exclamation marks have made it into this short post.
It's because at the intersection of learning and creating, wonders abound!
P.S. It's not finished yet. Many more whittles required. So far, no band-aids required

Friday, May 1, 2020