Bienvenu!



Bienvenu!

Whether you are a fellow fiber artist, enthusiast or just an admirer, walk along and talk with me on my journey.




Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Excited

I went to my new favorite cafe this morning to have a bagel, raspberry iced tea and do a little networking. The cafe sponsors local artisans by selling their art in the cafe.  So I brought some of my hand knit mug cozies to the lovely young woman who handles all this.  She was more than happy to carry my cozies and I am more than happy to let her have all she wants!  So now, it's time to get knitting!  Happy happy.

I have miles of yarn to knit before I sleep!

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Anniversary

Today marks my 5th Anniversary of being cancer free.  I was diagnosed with cervical cancer on July 25, 2005.  The surgery was scheduled just 2 weeks after the diagnosis. I didn't tell my children at the time because they were so young.  8, 6 and 3.  We just didn't want to scare them with the word cancer.  Our 3 year old might not have even known what the word cancer means.  Hearing the word cancer fills me with dread.We didn't want to put that dread into our children.

This past Spring, our youngest son's Cub Scout Pack were participants/vendors in a Relay for life event.  I felt as though this would be the right opportunity to tell our children about my cancer.  My husband is also a cancer survivor.  He had thyroid cancer twice in the early 90's.  Telling our children about our experience was a very cathartic experience.  We assured them that we're now healthy and that having cancer is not as dark as it seems.  Since the Relay for Life, I have grown emotionally in relation to being a cancer survivor.  It's no longer a subject that cannot be discussed in front of my children. I see more opportunities for growth and fulfillment.  My husband gave me a cello and violin for my birthday this past June.  I've longed to learn to play these instruments for many years. It's sort of a 'Bucket List' item.  So, when I am done writing for today, I will play my cello in my quiet home and enjoy the moment.

Today is my Mom's birthday.  She would have been 83 this year.  She passed from this world October 24, 1983 from Leukemia.  I chose this day for my surgery 5 years ago, because I wanted her birthday to be a day of rebirth for me as well.  Happy Birthday Mom.  I love you and miss you so very much.

Monday, August 9, 2010

The first real day 8-9-10

Last night, sleep did not come easily.  There seemed to be so much to do before the first real day of school.  Last week, our 3 children only had 1 half day.  It was a mere 2.5 hours of getting used to where things are in school, teachers, classmates, etc.  When my husband and I  dropped them off that morning, not one of them looked back.  They didn't look back today either.  I wasn't surprised.

I went home to my empty house for the first time.  It wasn't as lonely and empty as I had suspected.  I needed to feed our horse, dog, bunny and then come back in to clean.  Oddly enough, cleaning is something I am sort of looking forward to in all these new beginnings.  For the last 100 years or so, my home hasn't ever been what I would call 'clean'. We will, for now, say it's messy and 'lived in'... I went about my farm duties with the horse and dog.  When I arrived at the bunny's hutch, I found he had passed away in the night. I've had little "Hoppy George Egore" for 5 years now.  He was a wonderfully soft and beautiful little bunny.  I had suspected that he was approaching an elderly status, but that did not take the sting out of finding him gone.  I went about the work that needed to be done in the 80 some degrees of the 10 o'clock morning heat.

When I finished my morose task, I walked soaked, into the house for the next of 'firsts'.  I hadn't realized it, but I have never taken a shower alone in my own home before.  There were always children or a husband buzzing about prior to this morning.  I've looked forward to having some autonomy in my day for some time now.  But this morning, it just seemed to be another depressing thing to face.  Being a grown up, I muddled through my solitude and went to my Chiropractor appointment.  After having dug a small, bunny sized grave in the hard, red clay, this appointment is just what I need. Spending too much of that time digging that grave in the ragweed laden August air has left me a sneezy, tickly and aching mess.  Currently, I sit in a cafe, pondering the events of my morning and calculating the rest of the day .

This isn't all what I had envisioned for my first 'grown up' day with my children at school and husband at work...  I honestly thought I would be sitting at my loom, joyfully weaving or sitting in a sunny spot, spinning alpaca with Tchaikovsky playing softly in the background.

It's a good thing I'm able to laugh at myself through my tears of loss for Hoppy, my empty home where my now, non home-schooled children used to be and the strings of sneezes that punctuate these moments. 

I truly have miles to go before I sleep... :)

Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

I've always loved this poem.  It's meant for me different things at different times.  I have never interpreted this poem to be about death/suicide- as some have analyzed.  For me, it's about the endless litany of things to be completed before sleep is even entertained as a thought.

I have a motto under which I live-in a subconsciously, unwilling state.  It is "Spinach before ice cream."  And so it goes, the less attractive and necessary tasks in life must be completed before any enjoyment can be had. This motto however, is quite flawed.  Sometimes, even the necessary tasks go undone as well as the frivolous and enjoyable ones... With this mindset, the man in the poem would neither walk through the lovely deep dark woods or make the long journey home. He would merely be overcome by it all and fall asleep with his confused little horse, in his sleigh. 

My hope for this blog and myself is to *take* that walk in the lovely deep dark woods.  See, smell, touch, and taste all that it offers.



Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening







Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.


My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost