I love to check the statistics on this blog every now and again. Seeing that people are actually reading something that I'm writing is a very big rush for me. Today as I checked I had to laugh. How random is it that someone in Spain, and India read my blog? I do NOT know anyone in either country. I hope someday to know someone from BOTH of those places. I plan to eventually be published both in India AND Spain. I would adore meeting people there, sharing our life stories, and learning and growing from each other.
In addition it's true I WOULD like the ability to actually earn money. I have been disabled since 1997 by multiple medical conditions that I juggle and struggle with. I worked hard and long to NOT be disabled by my health. At the young age of 42 I simply could not continue the battle. Yet, I do wish to be "abled," and not DIS abled.
I LOVE, ADORE, AM GRATEFUL FOR, the ability to write. Expressing life through words is art to me. When I can capture something beyond the mundane, something that creates pictures in the minds of others, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy!
I'm still working on publishing my three novels for this year. Two will be from my series, "Women of the Drifting Anchor Ranch." Celeste, and Angela's stories will be available for purchase soon. If you read Celeste's journal that I've posted on this blog it will give you a lead in to both of these books.
The third novel that I will be publishing is "Thrive, Don't Just Survive." I began writing my blog objoyful44.blogspot.com before my beloved husband of 27 years passed away. It had brought me great comfort and courage as I've shared some of the process of learning to live without him. UGH...those words "without him" still have the power to make me faintly bilious. Yet my belief that we will be together again gives me strength to keep moving forward into life. I began this blog and this book largely to remind MYSELF of the experiences that have taught me how to THRIVE not Just Survive!
Thanks any and all that read my blogs...especially those in Spain, and India!
Friday, December 20, 2013
Friday, November 29, 2013
Christmas Gift - Woolen Scarf
Ever So Warm, and
Attractive, Woolen Scarf (for men or women)
With Christmas just
around the corner in our real world, and in Celeste's fictional world
it's a great idea to start considering what presents you are giving
this year. In Celeste's world she owns and operates a Sewing
Shop, LePetit. She is extremely creative but limited in cash.
So she decides to make the presents for her family this year.
The following is a pattern for a woolen flannel scarf.
MATERIALS NEEDED
- 1 yard of woolen flannel (plaid or plain, either is nice)
1 box of straight pins
1 needle (I prefer them with larger eyes, easier to thread)
1 spool of thread to match or contrast with the fabric
Cut
two long rectangular pieces of fabric. They need to be slighter
wider than you would like a scarf to make room for the side seams.
It is helpful to measure it to the person that you are giving it to.
If it is made to be a surprise you will have to use your own neck for
measurement and then add several inches of fabric for a very large
man. Put right sides together and machine stitch all the way around
the long rectangle until you come to the very end. Stop sewing about
4 inches from the end of the fabric. Lay the seams flat and press
along the seam to open it. You have to be very careful with the iron
temperature...too hot and it will singe the fabric...too cold and it
won't open the seam. It's helpful to use a press cloth, clean dish
towel or pillowcase. Moisten that towel just enough to cause the
iron to steam the seam. Pull the finished scarf through the opening.
You may want to press the seams again if they did not open well to
lay flat. Last of all tuck the ends of the opening in and blind
stitch that fabric to finish the project. Voila! A warm, attractive
scarf for a chilly day!
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Mama - Writing
Caroljoy, it's time to do your homework. ARGH! Those words scraped across my young nerves more effectively than finger nails on a chalkboard. My young rebellious soul did NOT like to be told what to do, or when to do it. This frequently caused my Mom and I to be at odds. She was a person that needed rigid structure within her day. On our refrigerator were daily schedules, lists of chores, time the piano was to be practiced, and other items that gave her day, our days, form and shape. I HATED rigid structure. I wanted and needed to just let each day unwrap slowly like the best Christmas gift.
The problem with my way of living in each day was that often there was NO consistency. I would not practice the piano for days (without her loving, firm insistence). Homework? I would do the bare minimum to get by.
Add to this my chronic illnesses, allergy asthma, chronic bronchitis, and basically allergies to every substance on the planet. I also had a compromised immune system. This inability to plan ahead effectively also made my rather Bohemian outlook on life more understandable.
Mama...she got smarter as I grew up. Instead of confronting me face on for example, "Caroljoy, it's your turn to do the dishes. Get to it, NOW!" She would use reverse psychology (I somehow did not realize that was what she was doing until I had children of my own). "Caroljoy, I will do the dishes tonight. I know that you've had a busy, hard day today. Don't worry about them, I'll do them."
"Oh no you won't. I will do the dishes. It's my turn and I WILL DO THEM!"
Looking back I can remember a little smile that she would have. Wily and cunning my Mama was. Loving and wise as well. She knew that my health kept me from being consistent in my life. That rigid structure was her way of creating a form of normalcy in spite of my health issues.
Let's move down the years to 2012, Mother's Day.
This Mother's Day held a golden moment for me. I took my first novel, Beth, Women of the Drifting Anchor Ranch to my 93 year old Mama. I used her pen name Vivian Varlowe, (with her permission) for my series. There was that name that so long ago she'd decided to write with proudly across the top of the book cover.
As she held the novel up her brilliant, brown eyes, (they still sparkle like diamonds), filled with soft, joyous tears.
I said, "Mama, it took awhile but you made it! YOU and I are published! I would never have had the talent, skill, or determination to write a novel if you hadn't been my fan club, my teacher, my structure creator, and my beloved friend."
Then came the warmest of hugs, and the sharing of long held love. For me the achievement of a goal is ALWAYS sweeter when shared with my Mother!
There have never been extensive, comprehensive lists of chores to do, and times to get them done by, as we raised our two daughters. Yet there WAS a sense of continuity. A formatting of life's needs and directions was an important gift to our girls.
Just as Mama contributed to my writing with her patient teaching, reverse psychology, and a terrific pen name, I hope that I have given a similar gift to this next generation...our daughters. Then I hope they pass along those skills, those ideals to their children.
The problem with my way of living in each day was that often there was NO consistency. I would not practice the piano for days (without her loving, firm insistence). Homework? I would do the bare minimum to get by.
Add to this my chronic illnesses, allergy asthma, chronic bronchitis, and basically allergies to every substance on the planet. I also had a compromised immune system. This inability to plan ahead effectively also made my rather Bohemian outlook on life more understandable.
Mama...she got smarter as I grew up. Instead of confronting me face on for example, "Caroljoy, it's your turn to do the dishes. Get to it, NOW!" She would use reverse psychology (I somehow did not realize that was what she was doing until I had children of my own). "Caroljoy, I will do the dishes tonight. I know that you've had a busy, hard day today. Don't worry about them, I'll do them."
"Oh no you won't. I will do the dishes. It's my turn and I WILL DO THEM!"
Looking back I can remember a little smile that she would have. Wily and cunning my Mama was. Loving and wise as well. She knew that my health kept me from being consistent in my life. That rigid structure was her way of creating a form of normalcy in spite of my health issues.
Let's move down the years to 2012, Mother's Day.
This Mother's Day held a golden moment for me. I took my first novel, Beth, Women of the Drifting Anchor Ranch to my 93 year old Mama. I used her pen name Vivian Varlowe, (with her permission) for my series. There was that name that so long ago she'd decided to write with proudly across the top of the book cover.
As she held the novel up her brilliant, brown eyes, (they still sparkle like diamonds), filled with soft, joyous tears.
I said, "Mama, it took awhile but you made it! YOU and I are published! I would never have had the talent, skill, or determination to write a novel if you hadn't been my fan club, my teacher, my structure creator, and my beloved friend."
Then came the warmest of hugs, and the sharing of long held love. For me the achievement of a goal is ALWAYS sweeter when shared with my Mother!
There have never been extensive, comprehensive lists of chores to do, and times to get them done by, as we raised our two daughters. Yet there WAS a sense of continuity. A formatting of life's needs and directions was an important gift to our girls.
Just as Mama contributed to my writing with her patient teaching, reverse psychology, and a terrific pen name, I hope that I have given a similar gift to this next generation...our daughters. Then I hope they pass along those skills, those ideals to their children.
Celeste's Journal
I put my journal in the bottom drawer of my bureau and have ignored it for a very long time. I just wanted to stay in the shallow part of the ocean. In other words I didn't want to think very deeply. I just wanted to live in the day to day to dayness of life.
I find that when I pick up a pen and paper suddenly my thoughts and feelings go deep sometimes so deep down that I can't see the sky. I know that some people who write in journals or diaries use them as simple chronicles of the circumstances of their day. An example, "Got up. Ate oatmeal. Sewed for the Bond's. Skipped lunch. Dinner was toast, coffee and chipped beef. Sewed until bedtime. Performed my nighttime ablutions. Went to bed at 9:30 pm. I think I just drifted off to sleep reading that as I wrote it. SO BORING!
People living after me may read this. Probably not. I won't have any children in this world. Madame's enforced slavery took that away from me. Eric, and Jamie are my foster sons but when I die they may not even look through my things. They probably will just give my clothing to the poor and throw out the rest. Well that was a great way to depress myself!
I'm feeling empty tonight. I don't know why I pulled out my journal on a gray, winter day in Calkington. Actually I DO understand. I need somewhere safe to vent. I need blank pages in a journal to write the words, I'm lonely. I want a family. I want to feel like there is more to my life than working so that I can eat and live in shelter, only to work again so that I can eat and live in shelter.
I'm trying to accept what Blake has to offer. There is certainly no other man beating my door down to get to my heart. Well, Red was infatuated with me for awhile. The thing is that I would rather lead this empty, sterile life than to marry someone only for company.
Well I now feel much worse than when I started this entry. Back the journal goes to the bottom of my bureau, buried under layers of clothing.
I find that when I pick up a pen and paper suddenly my thoughts and feelings go deep sometimes so deep down that I can't see the sky. I know that some people who write in journals or diaries use them as simple chronicles of the circumstances of their day. An example, "Got up. Ate oatmeal. Sewed for the Bond's. Skipped lunch. Dinner was toast, coffee and chipped beef. Sewed until bedtime. Performed my nighttime ablutions. Went to bed at 9:30 pm. I think I just drifted off to sleep reading that as I wrote it. SO BORING!
People living after me may read this. Probably not. I won't have any children in this world. Madame's enforced slavery took that away from me. Eric, and Jamie are my foster sons but when I die they may not even look through my things. They probably will just give my clothing to the poor and throw out the rest. Well that was a great way to depress myself!
I'm feeling empty tonight. I don't know why I pulled out my journal on a gray, winter day in Calkington. Actually I DO understand. I need somewhere safe to vent. I need blank pages in a journal to write the words, I'm lonely. I want a family. I want to feel like there is more to my life than working so that I can eat and live in shelter, only to work again so that I can eat and live in shelter.
I'm trying to accept what Blake has to offer. There is certainly no other man beating my door down to get to my heart. Well, Red was infatuated with me for awhile. The thing is that I would rather lead this empty, sterile life than to marry someone only for company.
Well I now feel much worse than when I started this entry. Back the journal goes to the bottom of my bureau, buried under layers of clothing.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Online Writing Interview
I'm SO EXCITED today. I have an online interview about my writing at ariverofstones.com This interview is under my pen name of Vivian Varlowe. I'm learning new and different things about marketing. I have met some amazing people in my writing experience. I would like to give gratitude to them in this post. Cozette at Aunt Addy's Country Closet has been so helpful, and positive. We share the unfortunate connection of being widowed. Both of us are doing our best to keep living but to say it's hard is to far understate it.
Kathryn Elizabeth Jones the founder of ariverofstones.com, is a lovely woman. She has been writing for a long time. She also has a publishing company. She is a writer/marketer who loves to give other writers a helping hand up. I purchased her book, "Marketing your Book on a Budget." It's incredibly helpful, and she charged the minimal amount of $5.00 for the book.
M..dear indie writer friend.(don't know if she'd want me to name her on my blog), is a brilliant writer. She has written multiple series of books. I can easily see her books as movies. She generously, lovingly, supports other writers as they stride on this path. M has so willingly shown me the ropes of being an Independent Writer. She has also brightened my life when my beloved husband died at 54 years of age.
The last people I wish to thank are my two daughters AND my beloved husband. They have been loving, supportive, and willing to help me in any way possible. Our oldest daughter is a professional editor and researcher. She edited my first novel, and did the computer things to publish my book that I'm not quite literate in yet. Sarah my youngest has been free in her support and love.
My husband has been gone for almost 2 years now but I still hear his voice in my head. When I struggle for a word or explaining a specific concept I hear him. He wrote two published books "Flagpole Fighting and Other Lessons My Mother Taught Me," and "My Child My Love." He told me once that I was a good writer. For me that was high praise! He was a gifted writer. I fell in love with him because of his writing skills!
My Papa has been gone for 23 years now. He a was a brilliant writer. He wrote amazing poetry in Iambic Pentameter...YIKES...in case you don't what that is...it's a specific rhythm of five counts. I struggle just to write simple rhyme, "I love my doggy, love him so, love my doggy, don't you know, I love my doggy, love him so!" YUP...Papa wrote in Iambic Pentameter.
Often, I envision my Father and my sweetheart standing on either side of me, giving me a missing word, or a great idea. After all it was Nyle who gave me the name of the ranch that my series would revolve around, "The Drifting Anchor."
So this post is a gratitude post. I'm grateful for the outlet of writing. I 'm grateful for the people that have supported me along the way (that includes all of you who are reading what I write), I'm ever so grateful!
Kathryn Elizabeth Jones the founder of ariverofstones.com, is a lovely woman. She has been writing for a long time. She also has a publishing company. She is a writer/marketer who loves to give other writers a helping hand up. I purchased her book, "Marketing your Book on a Budget." It's incredibly helpful, and she charged the minimal amount of $5.00 for the book.
M..dear indie writer friend.(don't know if she'd want me to name her on my blog), is a brilliant writer. She has written multiple series of books. I can easily see her books as movies. She generously, lovingly, supports other writers as they stride on this path. M has so willingly shown me the ropes of being an Independent Writer. She has also brightened my life when my beloved husband died at 54 years of age.
The last people I wish to thank are my two daughters AND my beloved husband. They have been loving, supportive, and willing to help me in any way possible. Our oldest daughter is a professional editor and researcher. She edited my first novel, and did the computer things to publish my book that I'm not quite literate in yet. Sarah my youngest has been free in her support and love.
My husband has been gone for almost 2 years now but I still hear his voice in my head. When I struggle for a word or explaining a specific concept I hear him. He wrote two published books "Flagpole Fighting and Other Lessons My Mother Taught Me," and "My Child My Love." He told me once that I was a good writer. For me that was high praise! He was a gifted writer. I fell in love with him because of his writing skills!
My Papa has been gone for 23 years now. He a was a brilliant writer. He wrote amazing poetry in Iambic Pentameter...YIKES...in case you don't what that is...it's a specific rhythm of five counts. I struggle just to write simple rhyme, "I love my doggy, love him so, love my doggy, don't you know, I love my doggy, love him so!" YUP...Papa wrote in Iambic Pentameter.
Often, I envision my Father and my sweetheart standing on either side of me, giving me a missing word, or a great idea. After all it was Nyle who gave me the name of the ranch that my series would revolve around, "The Drifting Anchor."
So this post is a gratitude post. I'm grateful for the outlet of writing. I 'm grateful for the people that have supported me along the way (that includes all of you who are reading what I write), I'm ever so grateful!
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Celeste's Journal
I found this dusty thing under my bed this evening. I guess I had thrown it down years ago on that awful Christmas. The Christmas when I realized that I would probably spend my life alone. I want so much to marry Blake and be a real full-time Mother to his children. That simply will not be. So, I'm learning to push those emotions/feelings away from me. After all, loving the Calkin's long distance is better than NOT loving them at all.
My shop has really picked up momentum since the last time I wrote. It is still annoying to me how rudely Lucille and her Bond Brat's (also known as children) treat me. They come pounding on the door two or three hours after I've closed for the day and completely expect me to open the door. for them.
The problem is, they are my best customers, money wise. Which forces me to put up with their rude behavior. Lucille is very, very proud of her two little girls. Her home is her castle. She keeps it spotless. (I have only heard about that since I've never been invited anywhere near her residence).
Jamie and Eric are such bright, beautiful boys. They are a constant joy to me. They are well mannered, and polite. It's so much fun to teach them new things. They grasp new ideas, and information so quickly. I have fallen head over heels, madly, dizzily, in love with Jamie and Eric. I'm grateful for their part in my world.
Red is my brother. Blake? I'm not quite certain what or who he is to me. Sometimes he's loving, holds my hand, kisses me in the moonlight. Then other times he won't touch me, and he acts very distant. I'm trying my hardest to just be ME...to not let Blake's emotional roller coaster pull me down.
I was able to plant a small garden last summer. I was amazed at the size of the fruits and veggies that I grew. Everything grows well in this fertile soil.
Well, once again I'm going to try hard to write consistently in my journal. I'm bringing it out from under the bed...good night journal!
My shop has really picked up momentum since the last time I wrote. It is still annoying to me how rudely Lucille and her Bond Brat's (also known as children) treat me. They come pounding on the door two or three hours after I've closed for the day and completely expect me to open the door. for them.
The problem is, they are my best customers, money wise. Which forces me to put up with their rude behavior. Lucille is very, very proud of her two little girls. Her home is her castle. She keeps it spotless. (I have only heard about that since I've never been invited anywhere near her residence).
Jamie and Eric are such bright, beautiful boys. They are a constant joy to me. They are well mannered, and polite. It's so much fun to teach them new things. They grasp new ideas, and information so quickly. I have fallen head over heels, madly, dizzily, in love with Jamie and Eric. I'm grateful for their part in my world.
Red is my brother. Blake? I'm not quite certain what or who he is to me. Sometimes he's loving, holds my hand, kisses me in the moonlight. Then other times he won't touch me, and he acts very distant. I'm trying my hardest to just be ME...to not let Blake's emotional roller coaster pull me down.
I was able to plant a small garden last summer. I was amazed at the size of the fruits and veggies that I grew. Everything grows well in this fertile soil.
Well, once again I'm going to try hard to write consistently in my journal. I'm bringing it out from under the bed...good night journal!
Friday, November 15, 2013
The Christmas of Crying
The morning was perfect! Little Jamie and his wide-eyed wonder as he opened presents. We had to help him open his gifts. His small fingers are not quite able to tug at paper and string. Jamie is growing up, so quickly. It seems from hour to hour he changes and grows.
Eric is such a darling boy. There was only three presents for each boy. Red, Blake, and I are not financially blessed at this time. I made Eric a warm plaid flannel nightshirt with his initials monogrammed on the top in a masculine block lettering. (He opened that last night). I also made him two new pairs of pants. Two shirts, and a suit coat. I think he was more excited about the string tie I also made him than the rest. He grows out of his clothes so rapidly right now. I swear that he's grown a foot since last Christmas. (OK, maybe not actually twelve inches. I do take after my Mother in my exaggerations of life). After Eric opened the present from me (I wrapped all of the clothes together) he ran to me and threw his chubby arms around my neck. "I wuv you Maman! Will you be my Maman forever, and never ever leave?"
Considering that Eric has lost two Mother's and he's not quite ten yet it's a valid question. I pulled him into me, his warm cuddly little body warming, touching my heart. I kissed him on the cheek and said, "Eric, I will never, ever leave you!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Blake get THE LOOK. You may ask, "What is THE LOOK?" I'll tell you. The Look is a facial stillness. Blake's eyes grow more open and he bats his eyes...faster, and faster. Then two spots, one on each cheek reddens. When he's especially upset his entire face colors to crimson.
The crimson this time moved so rapidly that I was nervous. Yet Blake said nothing. We continued opening and admiring our presents.
When we were finished Red had the boys come into the kitchen to help him finish making breakfast. I think he had also seen The Look. Alone with Blake and The Look, I tried not to look at him. I began gathering up the wrappings, and general clutter around the Christmas tree.
Blake took me by the arm. He led me to the settee. "Celeste, I know that you meant well but you simply can not make such a foolish promise to Eric!"
"Foolish Blake?" Now my temper began to rise. My Maman fought lots and lots with her hot temper that matched her fiery red hair. I have the same battle. I struggled at that moment to control it. "I do not consider a promise to a child that I will always be with him, foolish! I will do everything in my power to keep that promise!"
A single tear ran down Blake's cheek. "Celeste, if anyone knows what it's like to not be able to keep such a promise it should be you! Did your parents have any 'power' to keep their promises to you?"
Celeste began to cry. "Blake, I know that you can't keep a promise to a child that you will always be able to care for them. Yet did you see the security come into that boy's eyes thinking that I will always watch over him? For that precious moment he felt secure, safe, protected. If the time comes that I have to leave, and can't keep my promise...well I will face that and deal with it then. Blake in doing your best to face the worst situations before they happen you're robbing today of its joy!"
Blake was silent, head down.
I continued gathering the debris that remained from the joyous Christmas morning.
I was startled when Blake pulled me into a rough, passionate embrace. "Celeste, you are so wise. How are you so wise when you are still so young?"
I opened my mouth to speak and Blake claimed my lips. The kiss was dynamite. I actually felt an explosion of emotion rush through her. Pulling Blake closer I returned passion for passion. Then Blake surprised mte. He went from intense passion to gentleness, tenderness.
When Blake pulled back I felt like someone had removed the oxygen from the room. I fear that for a brief moment I looked like a guppy opening and closing my mouth slowly.
"Celeste, make me the same promise that you made Eric. Please promise me that you will never leave me, or Red, Eric, and Jamie. Promise that you will stay. Promise!"
I threw my arms around Blake and began to kiss him. He returned my kiss with the same passion. "Blake, I will marry you. I will!"
Then the air seemed to change. A sharp shock of awkwardness filled the room. I pulled away from Blake. I realized with a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach that Blake did not mean he wanted me to marry him. He just wanted me to stick around in the same situation we have now. I felt like such a fool.
So I rushed to say, "Well, I guess that I'd better go home. I have lots of things to sew before New Year's Eve. Have a Merry Christmas Blake. Oh and I won't be at the party tonight." (Every Christmas Blake and Red have an enormous Christmas party. They invite all of the workers and everyone from town).
I felt escape necessary. I could feel the tears building up behind my eyes. I wouldn't shed them, couldn't shed them. Not here, not now. I pushed Blake's restraining arms away. "I must be going."
"Wait Cely. What do I tell the children? We should talk about this!"
"Tell Eric and Jamie that their Mommy loves them and will see them on Sunday after church."
"You did promise Eric to never leave."
"I won't leave. I'm at my shop if Eric or Jamie need me."
"What if I need you Celeste?"
I shook my head and sighed enormously. "Blake, I love you. On the other hand, I just embarrassed myself enormously. Please be kind and let me make my escape, quickly."
Blake leaned forward to hold me. I picked my skirts up and ran. When I got to the stables I pulled out my trusty old horse. I didn't even bother with saddle or bridle. Red has been teaching me how to ride a horse better. Since we only had an ancient, enormous plowhorse when I was small riding a younger horse with ideas of his own had challenged me. Today I didn't care. I couldn't be patient long enough to saddle and bridle. I pulled my horse to a box on the floor. I clambered up on the box and then jumped on.
In minutes we were riding, galloping, with me lying low over the horses neck. I still kept those annoying tears of embarrassment and sorrow tucked away. I would not ride into town with a blotchy face, and extremely red nose from crying...I WON'T!
Home finally, I brushed my horse. I put a blanket on his back, and gave him a feedbag.
I went into my home, my business, my sanctuary. I closed and locked the door behind me. Next I climbed the stairs. Reaching my bed I flung myself down...and then allowed myself the release of tears. I cried until I fell into a restless, dream filled sleep.
I will overcome my embarrassment tomorrow. I'll return to the boys, and to Red. I will back away from Blake. I MUST back away from Blake.
Eric is such a darling boy. There was only three presents for each boy. Red, Blake, and I are not financially blessed at this time. I made Eric a warm plaid flannel nightshirt with his initials monogrammed on the top in a masculine block lettering. (He opened that last night). I also made him two new pairs of pants. Two shirts, and a suit coat. I think he was more excited about the string tie I also made him than the rest. He grows out of his clothes so rapidly right now. I swear that he's grown a foot since last Christmas. (OK, maybe not actually twelve inches. I do take after my Mother in my exaggerations of life). After Eric opened the present from me (I wrapped all of the clothes together) he ran to me and threw his chubby arms around my neck. "I wuv you Maman! Will you be my Maman forever, and never ever leave?"
Considering that Eric has lost two Mother's and he's not quite ten yet it's a valid question. I pulled him into me, his warm cuddly little body warming, touching my heart. I kissed him on the cheek and said, "Eric, I will never, ever leave you!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Blake get THE LOOK. You may ask, "What is THE LOOK?" I'll tell you. The Look is a facial stillness. Blake's eyes grow more open and he bats his eyes...faster, and faster. Then two spots, one on each cheek reddens. When he's especially upset his entire face colors to crimson.
The crimson this time moved so rapidly that I was nervous. Yet Blake said nothing. We continued opening and admiring our presents.
When we were finished Red had the boys come into the kitchen to help him finish making breakfast. I think he had also seen The Look. Alone with Blake and The Look, I tried not to look at him. I began gathering up the wrappings, and general clutter around the Christmas tree.
Blake took me by the arm. He led me to the settee. "Celeste, I know that you meant well but you simply can not make such a foolish promise to Eric!"
"Foolish Blake?" Now my temper began to rise. My Maman fought lots and lots with her hot temper that matched her fiery red hair. I have the same battle. I struggled at that moment to control it. "I do not consider a promise to a child that I will always be with him, foolish! I will do everything in my power to keep that promise!"
A single tear ran down Blake's cheek. "Celeste, if anyone knows what it's like to not be able to keep such a promise it should be you! Did your parents have any 'power' to keep their promises to you?"
Celeste began to cry. "Blake, I know that you can't keep a promise to a child that you will always be able to care for them. Yet did you see the security come into that boy's eyes thinking that I will always watch over him? For that precious moment he felt secure, safe, protected. If the time comes that I have to leave, and can't keep my promise...well I will face that and deal with it then. Blake in doing your best to face the worst situations before they happen you're robbing today of its joy!"
Blake was silent, head down.
I continued gathering the debris that remained from the joyous Christmas morning.
I was startled when Blake pulled me into a rough, passionate embrace. "Celeste, you are so wise. How are you so wise when you are still so young?"
I opened my mouth to speak and Blake claimed my lips. The kiss was dynamite. I actually felt an explosion of emotion rush through her. Pulling Blake closer I returned passion for passion. Then Blake surprised mte. He went from intense passion to gentleness, tenderness.
When Blake pulled back I felt like someone had removed the oxygen from the room. I fear that for a brief moment I looked like a guppy opening and closing my mouth slowly.
"Celeste, make me the same promise that you made Eric. Please promise me that you will never leave me, or Red, Eric, and Jamie. Promise that you will stay. Promise!"
I threw my arms around Blake and began to kiss him. He returned my kiss with the same passion. "Blake, I will marry you. I will!"
Then the air seemed to change. A sharp shock of awkwardness filled the room. I pulled away from Blake. I realized with a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach that Blake did not mean he wanted me to marry him. He just wanted me to stick around in the same situation we have now. I felt like such a fool.
So I rushed to say, "Well, I guess that I'd better go home. I have lots of things to sew before New Year's Eve. Have a Merry Christmas Blake. Oh and I won't be at the party tonight." (Every Christmas Blake and Red have an enormous Christmas party. They invite all of the workers and everyone from town).
I felt escape necessary. I could feel the tears building up behind my eyes. I wouldn't shed them, couldn't shed them. Not here, not now. I pushed Blake's restraining arms away. "I must be going."
"Wait Cely. What do I tell the children? We should talk about this!"
"Tell Eric and Jamie that their Mommy loves them and will see them on Sunday after church."
"You did promise Eric to never leave."
"I won't leave. I'm at my shop if Eric or Jamie need me."
"What if I need you Celeste?"
I shook my head and sighed enormously. "Blake, I love you. On the other hand, I just embarrassed myself enormously. Please be kind and let me make my escape, quickly."
Blake leaned forward to hold me. I picked my skirts up and ran. When I got to the stables I pulled out my trusty old horse. I didn't even bother with saddle or bridle. Red has been teaching me how to ride a horse better. Since we only had an ancient, enormous plowhorse when I was small riding a younger horse with ideas of his own had challenged me. Today I didn't care. I couldn't be patient long enough to saddle and bridle. I pulled my horse to a box on the floor. I clambered up on the box and then jumped on.
In minutes we were riding, galloping, with me lying low over the horses neck. I still kept those annoying tears of embarrassment and sorrow tucked away. I would not ride into town with a blotchy face, and extremely red nose from crying...I WON'T!
Home finally, I brushed my horse. I put a blanket on his back, and gave him a feedbag.
I went into my home, my business, my sanctuary. I closed and locked the door behind me. Next I climbed the stairs. Reaching my bed I flung myself down...and then allowed myself the release of tears. I cried until I fell into a restless, dream filled sleep.
I will overcome my embarrassment tomorrow. I'll return to the boys, and to Red. I will back away from Blake. I MUST back away from Blake.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Christmas is Almost Here!
I spent last night at the ranch. Jamie had been running a fever and pulling at his right ear. Poor little tyke. He hurt so much and didn't understand what was happening. I wish that babies were born with some sort of mechanism that explained to their worried parents, ear infection, sore throat, stomach ache, some way of knowing exactly what to treat. I'm always amazed at how well Doc can read the signs of sickness and know in a quick minute exactly how to treat the baby, small child, or old lady. Calkington is fortunate to have him here.
I hate it when Jamie or Eric are sick. Yet to be honest I can admit that I love the cuddling, the cooking and feeding them healthy comfort food. On the other hand when they cry, I cry right along with them, feeling their pain, and trying to distract them from it.
I went out to visit the ranch and found Blake and Red looking heavy eyed, and Blake had about three days of whiskers on his face. (Red never shaves so his beard didn't look very different). They had called Dr. Stone and he gave them garlic oil to warm slightly and put in Jamie's ear to help ease the pain and to fight the infection. Usually a small child does not appreciate things of any sort being put in their ears. Actually, I guess adults don't enjoy it either. In Jamie's case it was a testament of how badly his ear hurt that after Dr. Stone put the medicine in his ear he calmed, and actually went to sleep. It was the first time that he had slept in two days!
Doc also gave us some Laudanum to give Jamie if the pain got too bad again. He said to definitely give him some at bedtime so the entire household can get some rest.
Finding everything so upside down, and Blake and Red exhausted, I shooed them to bed, and took over the care of Jamie and Eric. Red and Blake both slept for hours, exhausted.
Eric is such a serious little boy. He said, "Maman, what can I do to help Jamie feel better?" I smiled and gave Eric a kiss on the cheek.
I said softly, "Eric, why don't you find your favorite books and when Jamie awakens you can read to him." (He is the most adorable little boy, so grown up in so many ways that it's startling to find in such a young boy).
Eric ran to do my bidding. When Jamie awakened Eric read to him. I was able to leave Eric with Jamie so that I could go downstairs and warm up some chicken broth. I was grateful that Red had made chicken broth the day before I came. He also had put in soft vegetables, potatoes and carrots.
I could tell that Jamie was feeling a bit better. He ate that soup and asked for more. So, I went and got him some more. I also got some bread, butter, and cheese for Eric and I. I brought some extra cheese and bread for Jamie, just in case he saw ours and wanted some...HE DID! Blake and Red had told me that they couldn't get Jamie to eat anything. I was very relieved when he ate hungrily.
Just before Red and Blake awakened Jamie's ear started hurting so badly that he was crying. Again I warmed the oil by holding it in my hands (I have very warm hands), and then putting two drops in his ear. I also gave him just the tiniest dose of Laudanum. The combination seemed to work well.
When Blake came in Jamie's room after he slept he stretched and said, "Celeste Benoit you are an angel. Thank you for letting us get some sleep. I know that you're very busy right now during the Christmas season. You can go home now if you want."
I smiled at Blake and said, "Dynamite could not blast me from the side of our boy. If I went home I would simply worry and pace. It's much better for me to be here." I leaned over and brushed Jamie's oh so straight hair off his forehead and said, "I think his fever is breaking Blake. He's all dewy with sweat."
Blake checked Jamie's forehead and said, "I think you're right. Hallelujah. I can't bear when my boys..." Blake stopped, looked at me and changed his words, "OUR boys are sick. I just want everything in life to be wonderful for them." Then Blake wrapped me up in his big, strong, arms, and kissed me. Oh it was the tenderest kiss, soft, warm, and I just about melted into the floor boards.
So...journal I stayed over night and then came home this afternoon. Jamie was feeling so well that he got dressed and played marbles with Eric. I hated to leave them, my family. Still, I have a business to run. Being at the ranch did put me behind on my sewing but I'll catch up. It was sad to have Jamie sick, but heaven to be there at the ranch with my family.
I hate it when Jamie or Eric are sick. Yet to be honest I can admit that I love the cuddling, the cooking and feeding them healthy comfort food. On the other hand when they cry, I cry right along with them, feeling their pain, and trying to distract them from it.
I went out to visit the ranch and found Blake and Red looking heavy eyed, and Blake had about three days of whiskers on his face. (Red never shaves so his beard didn't look very different). They had called Dr. Stone and he gave them garlic oil to warm slightly and put in Jamie's ear to help ease the pain and to fight the infection. Usually a small child does not appreciate things of any sort being put in their ears. Actually, I guess adults don't enjoy it either. In Jamie's case it was a testament of how badly his ear hurt that after Dr. Stone put the medicine in his ear he calmed, and actually went to sleep. It was the first time that he had slept in two days!
Doc also gave us some Laudanum to give Jamie if the pain got too bad again. He said to definitely give him some at bedtime so the entire household can get some rest.
Finding everything so upside down, and Blake and Red exhausted, I shooed them to bed, and took over the care of Jamie and Eric. Red and Blake both slept for hours, exhausted.
Eric is such a serious little boy. He said, "Maman, what can I do to help Jamie feel better?" I smiled and gave Eric a kiss on the cheek.
I said softly, "Eric, why don't you find your favorite books and when Jamie awakens you can read to him." (He is the most adorable little boy, so grown up in so many ways that it's startling to find in such a young boy).
Eric ran to do my bidding. When Jamie awakened Eric read to him. I was able to leave Eric with Jamie so that I could go downstairs and warm up some chicken broth. I was grateful that Red had made chicken broth the day before I came. He also had put in soft vegetables, potatoes and carrots.
I could tell that Jamie was feeling a bit better. He ate that soup and asked for more. So, I went and got him some more. I also got some bread, butter, and cheese for Eric and I. I brought some extra cheese and bread for Jamie, just in case he saw ours and wanted some...HE DID! Blake and Red had told me that they couldn't get Jamie to eat anything. I was very relieved when he ate hungrily.
Just before Red and Blake awakened Jamie's ear started hurting so badly that he was crying. Again I warmed the oil by holding it in my hands (I have very warm hands), and then putting two drops in his ear. I also gave him just the tiniest dose of Laudanum. The combination seemed to work well.
When Blake came in Jamie's room after he slept he stretched and said, "Celeste Benoit you are an angel. Thank you for letting us get some sleep. I know that you're very busy right now during the Christmas season. You can go home now if you want."
I smiled at Blake and said, "Dynamite could not blast me from the side of our boy. If I went home I would simply worry and pace. It's much better for me to be here." I leaned over and brushed Jamie's oh so straight hair off his forehead and said, "I think his fever is breaking Blake. He's all dewy with sweat."
Blake checked Jamie's forehead and said, "I think you're right. Hallelujah. I can't bear when my boys..." Blake stopped, looked at me and changed his words, "OUR boys are sick. I just want everything in life to be wonderful for them." Then Blake wrapped me up in his big, strong, arms, and kissed me. Oh it was the tenderest kiss, soft, warm, and I just about melted into the floor boards.
So...journal I stayed over night and then came home this afternoon. Jamie was feeling so well that he got dressed and played marbles with Eric. I hated to leave them, my family. Still, I have a business to run. Being at the ranch did put me behind on my sewing but I'll catch up. It was sad to have Jamie sick, but heaven to be there at the ranch with my family.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Celeste's Journal
The air was cool and humid today as we climbed up the hill behind the ranch to chop down the Christmas tree. Blake insisted that we cut two. One for the ranch and one for me at my shop. I didn't tell him that I wished he would marry me and then we wouldn't need another tree for the shop. Sigh...I know that it will probably never happen but I can dream!
About halfway to the thickest area of Christmasey type trees it started to rain. This was not a liquid sunshine sort of gentle drizzle. This was a the sky opened up and dropped out a lake kind of rain. Seriously the rain was pounding so hard that it actually hurt me wherever it landed. The last part of the trip was miserable. Red and Blake picked up Jamie, and Eric because they were crying, and sliding back as much as they walked forward.
When we got almost to the trees both boys seemed to regain their excitement over chopping just the right Christmas tree down. Eric remembers his last Christmas. He has a terrific memory and he's almost three years older than Jamie. Jamie is just absolutely, completely, living in the moment. He claps his hands and giggles at so many, many things. Oh how deeply, completely, I love these young boys. I'm so grateful that they are a part of my life.
Red was grouchy. I was surprised because usually on the Christmas tree hunts (that's what Blake calls them), Red is pleasant, chatty, and sings Christmas songs from Ireland. This time he hardly spoke to anyone. He actually snapped at Blake when Blake asked him an honest question. That shocked me because Red is ALWAYS very respectful towards Blake.
When Blake and I were out of Red's hearing I said, "What is going on Blake? Why is Red grouchier than usual?" Blake frowned and said, "Red's sister, his only sibling died giving birth last week. The baby died as well."
"Oh poor Red!" I said softly, and sadly. "Does that mean that he hasn't any family left? I know his parents died, and then his wife and child, and now his only sibling? I know how much that hurts. Why isn't he at the ranch where he can mourn alone?"
Blake answered me slowly, He says that being alone he is just too anguished, too desperate in his grief. Red also said that we had been his family for several years now. He told me that we must take very good care of each other and the boys. We are the only family he has now."
I felt as though someone had shot an arrow directly into her heart. Blake's exclusion of me hurt deep into my heart. I also thought about the fact that Red, Blake, Jamie, and Eric were all the family that I had as well. I was deeply hurt that Red had not included me in his list of who were his family now. I pouted for a few minutes and then realized that this was about Red, not about my feelings of hurt. I needed to help comfort Red.
Walking ahead I put my arm through Red's. He turned towards me with the saddest, most confused look on his face. "Celeste, it's raining really hard isn't it?" I kissed Red on the cheek. "It certainly is. I think we'll need some of your powerful, warm you all the way through hot cocoa when we get back to the ranch."
I couldn't tell at first that Red was crying, with tears running down his face. The rain blended with his tears. "She's dead Celeste, Siobhan is gone, and she took her baby with her." "Siobhan your sister, Red? What happened?" Even though I already knew what had happened I thought it might help Red to work through his grief to explain it to me. Red took a deep deep breath and then said, "She was such a tiny thing, hardly bigger than a leprechaun. I was afraid for her giving birth when she was so tiny. She died, and the baby died as well." Great engulfing sobs of sorrow came from Red.
Pulling his head down to my shoulder, I rubbed his neck and shoulders. I then pulled him into a hug. "I know that you can't substitute one person for another. Still I do want you to remember that you still have a sister, and it's me! I love you Reese O'Tooele, and I want to help you any way that I can!"
Red hugged me tight, and we just stood there for a long moment sharing each others air, and feeling the love move between us. I really truly do love Red just as I loved my brother. Finally I stepped back and said, "Red you know that I lost my brothers and my entire family on that miserable ship coming to America. You have lost your sister. I will be your sister if you will be my brother."
Red hugged me again but this time it was quicker. Then he held out a hand to me, "So are you ready to climb up this hill or are we just going to stand here all day chewing the fat?" I smiled up at him and said, "Red, I believe that we have trees to conquer, is that right?" Red smiled, "Watch out trees we're coming to get you!"
About halfway to the thickest area of Christmasey type trees it started to rain. This was not a liquid sunshine sort of gentle drizzle. This was a the sky opened up and dropped out a lake kind of rain. Seriously the rain was pounding so hard that it actually hurt me wherever it landed. The last part of the trip was miserable. Red and Blake picked up Jamie, and Eric because they were crying, and sliding back as much as they walked forward.
When we got almost to the trees both boys seemed to regain their excitement over chopping just the right Christmas tree down. Eric remembers his last Christmas. He has a terrific memory and he's almost three years older than Jamie. Jamie is just absolutely, completely, living in the moment. He claps his hands and giggles at so many, many things. Oh how deeply, completely, I love these young boys. I'm so grateful that they are a part of my life.
Red was grouchy. I was surprised because usually on the Christmas tree hunts (that's what Blake calls them), Red is pleasant, chatty, and sings Christmas songs from Ireland. This time he hardly spoke to anyone. He actually snapped at Blake when Blake asked him an honest question. That shocked me because Red is ALWAYS very respectful towards Blake.
When Blake and I were out of Red's hearing I said, "What is going on Blake? Why is Red grouchier than usual?" Blake frowned and said, "Red's sister, his only sibling died giving birth last week. The baby died as well."
"Oh poor Red!" I said softly, and sadly. "Does that mean that he hasn't any family left? I know his parents died, and then his wife and child, and now his only sibling? I know how much that hurts. Why isn't he at the ranch where he can mourn alone?"
Blake answered me slowly, He says that being alone he is just too anguished, too desperate in his grief. Red also said that we had been his family for several years now. He told me that we must take very good care of each other and the boys. We are the only family he has now."
I felt as though someone had shot an arrow directly into her heart. Blake's exclusion of me hurt deep into my heart. I also thought about the fact that Red, Blake, Jamie, and Eric were all the family that I had as well. I was deeply hurt that Red had not included me in his list of who were his family now. I pouted for a few minutes and then realized that this was about Red, not about my feelings of hurt. I needed to help comfort Red.
Walking ahead I put my arm through Red's. He turned towards me with the saddest, most confused look on his face. "Celeste, it's raining really hard isn't it?" I kissed Red on the cheek. "It certainly is. I think we'll need some of your powerful, warm you all the way through hot cocoa when we get back to the ranch."
I couldn't tell at first that Red was crying, with tears running down his face. The rain blended with his tears. "She's dead Celeste, Siobhan is gone, and she took her baby with her." "Siobhan your sister, Red? What happened?" Even though I already knew what had happened I thought it might help Red to work through his grief to explain it to me. Red took a deep deep breath and then said, "She was such a tiny thing, hardly bigger than a leprechaun. I was afraid for her giving birth when she was so tiny. She died, and the baby died as well." Great engulfing sobs of sorrow came from Red.
Pulling his head down to my shoulder, I rubbed his neck and shoulders. I then pulled him into a hug. "I know that you can't substitute one person for another. Still I do want you to remember that you still have a sister, and it's me! I love you Reese O'Tooele, and I want to help you any way that I can!"
Red hugged me tight, and we just stood there for a long moment sharing each others air, and feeling the love move between us. I really truly do love Red just as I loved my brother. Finally I stepped back and said, "Red you know that I lost my brothers and my entire family on that miserable ship coming to America. You have lost your sister. I will be your sister if you will be my brother."
Red hugged me again but this time it was quicker. Then he held out a hand to me, "So are you ready to climb up this hill or are we just going to stand here all day chewing the fat?" I smiled up at him and said, "Red, I believe that we have trees to conquer, is that right?" Red smiled, "Watch out trees we're coming to get you!"
Monday, October 21, 2013
Celeste's Journal
It's snowing, large lovely patterns of intricate ice and snow. I'm sewing in front of the large window of my shop. Or, I was sewing until I decided to write in my journal for awhile. Not much happened this last week. I've been working on preparing for Christmas...which is now just a few weeks away.
I didn't see Blake all week last week. That meant I also didn't see Red, Jamie, or Eric either. It was so sad for me. I tried to convince myself that it was a good thing, so I could work on my presents for all of them without worrying that they would see those presents before Christmas. I still missed them....SO MUCH!
Yesterday after church Blake, Red, Jamie, and Eric all trooped into my shop. I had hoped that they would still come for a Sunday meal after church. I was so happy that they did! I had cooked roast beef, with potatoes in their jackets, and carrots all simmering in the lovely beef broth. I had also made soft, fluffy rolls. They were so fluffy I giggled as I made them imagining them being so fluffy that you had to hold them down to keep them from floating away into the atmosphere, or at least up at my ceiling.
I was so glad to see each and every one of them. It really hit my heart that these men...these four men, (actually two men, two children who will become men) ARE my family! For so long I felt completely alone in this great big, wide world.
At Madame's I did make some friends. It was hard to make friends in such an evil place. It felt like we were all alienated by the reality of our enforced slavery.
After we ate, (oh did I mention the amazing chocolate cake I made by Red's luscious recipe), we were all very sleepy. I put Jamie, and Eric to nap on my bed upstairs. Then Blake, Red and I played a game of gin rummy. I'm pretty good at gin rummy. Blake and Red are also good at gin rummy. So, the game involved lots of strategy, and lots of stretching my mind to play competitively. I was absolutely delighted when I won! Red and Blake made a lot of masculine noise about how they 'let me win.' I hooted over the very idea!
I had not noticed that Blake had brought his guitar into the shop. (I was too busy hugging the boys, and Red when Blake brought it in). Blake played and all of us sang. Songs of love, songs of heart break, songs of silliness. I love to sing with Red and Blake. Red has a superb Irish Tenor voice. His voice is so sweet it gives me goosebumps. Blake's voice is a deep Baritone. He also gives me goosebumps when he sings but in a very different way. The goosebumps from Blake's voice include goosebumps for the way I feel about him. I'm in love and I will not deny it to myself.
All too soon Blake and Red gathered Jamie and Eric from their naps. I said, "Wrap them up warmly Red, Blake." Then I said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound bossy. I just love them so much."
Red hugged me and said, "Don't you worry Celeste. We appreciate the feminine love and Mothering that you give them." He made me feel appreciated. I was so grateful for his positive affirmation.
Blake leaned down and kissed me ever so softly, so gently. Lifting me up (He is six foot four. Since I'm just about five foot three inches, he has to lift me to look eye to eye, or we have to sit down). He said as gently as the kiss had been, "We welcome advice from you for your boys Celeste.'" 'Your boys,' he said they were mine! I hugged him hard, and we walked out into the brisk early winters eve.
Red climbed into the wagon first. I handed Jamie up to him. Then Blake climbed into the wagon and I handed Eric up to him. Eric has gotten so big that he was almost too heavy for me. The boys are growing up far too quickly for my liking!
Now I'm back in the present. The snowflakes have gotten smaller but now they are being swirled in the brisk wind. I'm grateful that I don't have to go out in the cold and wet today. I have built a fire in my fireplace and it's joyously cozy here in my shop and home. The only thing that would be better is if I was at the ranch with the family I love. Sigh...I'm going to focus on the blessings of having a lovely shop and home, and not on the things I wish were in my world.
I didn't see Blake all week last week. That meant I also didn't see Red, Jamie, or Eric either. It was so sad for me. I tried to convince myself that it was a good thing, so I could work on my presents for all of them without worrying that they would see those presents before Christmas. I still missed them....SO MUCH!
Yesterday after church Blake, Red, Jamie, and Eric all trooped into my shop. I had hoped that they would still come for a Sunday meal after church. I was so happy that they did! I had cooked roast beef, with potatoes in their jackets, and carrots all simmering in the lovely beef broth. I had also made soft, fluffy rolls. They were so fluffy I giggled as I made them imagining them being so fluffy that you had to hold them down to keep them from floating away into the atmosphere, or at least up at my ceiling.
I was so glad to see each and every one of them. It really hit my heart that these men...these four men, (actually two men, two children who will become men) ARE my family! For so long I felt completely alone in this great big, wide world.
At Madame's I did make some friends. It was hard to make friends in such an evil place. It felt like we were all alienated by the reality of our enforced slavery.
After we ate, (oh did I mention the amazing chocolate cake I made by Red's luscious recipe), we were all very sleepy. I put Jamie, and Eric to nap on my bed upstairs. Then Blake, Red and I played a game of gin rummy. I'm pretty good at gin rummy. Blake and Red are also good at gin rummy. So, the game involved lots of strategy, and lots of stretching my mind to play competitively. I was absolutely delighted when I won! Red and Blake made a lot of masculine noise about how they 'let me win.' I hooted over the very idea!
I had not noticed that Blake had brought his guitar into the shop. (I was too busy hugging the boys, and Red when Blake brought it in). Blake played and all of us sang. Songs of love, songs of heart break, songs of silliness. I love to sing with Red and Blake. Red has a superb Irish Tenor voice. His voice is so sweet it gives me goosebumps. Blake's voice is a deep Baritone. He also gives me goosebumps when he sings but in a very different way. The goosebumps from Blake's voice include goosebumps for the way I feel about him. I'm in love and I will not deny it to myself.
All too soon Blake and Red gathered Jamie and Eric from their naps. I said, "Wrap them up warmly Red, Blake." Then I said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound bossy. I just love them so much."
Red hugged me and said, "Don't you worry Celeste. We appreciate the feminine love and Mothering that you give them." He made me feel appreciated. I was so grateful for his positive affirmation.
Blake leaned down and kissed me ever so softly, so gently. Lifting me up (He is six foot four. Since I'm just about five foot three inches, he has to lift me to look eye to eye, or we have to sit down). He said as gently as the kiss had been, "We welcome advice from you for your boys Celeste.'" 'Your boys,' he said they were mine! I hugged him hard, and we walked out into the brisk early winters eve.
Red climbed into the wagon first. I handed Jamie up to him. Then Blake climbed into the wagon and I handed Eric up to him. Eric has gotten so big that he was almost too heavy for me. The boys are growing up far too quickly for my liking!
Now I'm back in the present. The snowflakes have gotten smaller but now they are being swirled in the brisk wind. I'm grateful that I don't have to go out in the cold and wet today. I have built a fire in my fireplace and it's joyously cozy here in my shop and home. The only thing that would be better is if I was at the ranch with the family I love. Sigh...I'm going to focus on the blessings of having a lovely shop and home, and not on the things I wish were in my world.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Celeste's Journal
Before I could wash my face this morning I had to break the layer of ice that had frozen over the top. It was so cold last night that we had an ice storm. That means that there are layers of ice over everything, trees, bushes, any types of plant life. It's impossible to ride a horse today because it would be so dangerous. Horses can't keep traction on ice any more than a human can.
Around noon I heard an incredibly loud C R A C K! I dropped my sewing and ran out to the front of my shop. There was one of the oldest trees in Calkington lying in the middle of the road. I'm very grateful that if it had to fall it fell somewhere that did no human, animal, or property damage.
I went outside several times today to see men gather to chop, saw, and clear the enormous old tree in the middle of the street. I did see Eric Erickson slip and fall on his fairly substantial backside. I tried not to laugh as he slid to the side and then limped home. It shouldn't be funny. It obviously hurt him, and embarrassed him as well. I don't understand why watching someone fall even would be funny...but it kind of was. Only if he's not really hurt!
I even saw Willard Bond change his clothes and come out and work with the townsmen to clear the road. He looked so different in overalls, an old work-coat, a stocking hat, and a scarf around his neck. I am used to seeing professional Willard. He is a sharp dresser. He usually has on a suit coat, vest, pocket watch with a chain, suit pants that match his vest and coat, and a shirt so white that it almost glows with a celluloid collar. His hair is never mussed, and his shoes are always polished so well that you can glance down and look at yourself in their reflection.
As much as I dislike Lucille, for so very many reasons, she takes very good care of Willard. I'm pretty much certain that she polishes his shoes, washes and presses his clothes, and makes certain that if he needs things mended, or darned that happens promptly. She is a very good housewife. I just wish she were a better human being.
OK...I know I'm feeling glum. I never speak negatively about anyone, at least I try NOT TO, (even Lucille Bond) normally. When I am negative I know that I'm feeling blue.
So...in the later afternoon when I couldn't imagine anyone braving the ice storm to come to shop I closed my shop. Then I went to the General Store. I purchased a sturdy sled. I dragged that sled up to a steep hillside (there were already lots of children there). I climbed and slid, climbed and slid, climbed and slid, and climbed and slid. Some of the children looked oddly at me at first but after the 2nd and 3rd times down the hill they all just ignored me.
I was cheated of too much of my childhood by Madame LeRouge. Fortunately for me, I believe that it's never too late to have a happy childhood! So for a couple of hours today I had a very, very happy childhood.
It cheered me up so much that when I was walking back to my home carrying my sled and saw Lucille Bond look at me, sniff, and put her nose up in the air. I just chuckled and thought to myself, "Poor Lucille. You keep your nose up in the air so much that you whole head may get stuck in that awkward position!"
Laughing, I walked home. Home to a warm bath, then a delicious meal, and a clean nightgown...and a warm and toasty bed!
Around noon I heard an incredibly loud C R A C K! I dropped my sewing and ran out to the front of my shop. There was one of the oldest trees in Calkington lying in the middle of the road. I'm very grateful that if it had to fall it fell somewhere that did no human, animal, or property damage.
I went outside several times today to see men gather to chop, saw, and clear the enormous old tree in the middle of the street. I did see Eric Erickson slip and fall on his fairly substantial backside. I tried not to laugh as he slid to the side and then limped home. It shouldn't be funny. It obviously hurt him, and embarrassed him as well. I don't understand why watching someone fall even would be funny...but it kind of was. Only if he's not really hurt!
I even saw Willard Bond change his clothes and come out and work with the townsmen to clear the road. He looked so different in overalls, an old work-coat, a stocking hat, and a scarf around his neck. I am used to seeing professional Willard. He is a sharp dresser. He usually has on a suit coat, vest, pocket watch with a chain, suit pants that match his vest and coat, and a shirt so white that it almost glows with a celluloid collar. His hair is never mussed, and his shoes are always polished so well that you can glance down and look at yourself in their reflection.
As much as I dislike Lucille, for so very many reasons, she takes very good care of Willard. I'm pretty much certain that she polishes his shoes, washes and presses his clothes, and makes certain that if he needs things mended, or darned that happens promptly. She is a very good housewife. I just wish she were a better human being.
OK...I know I'm feeling glum. I never speak negatively about anyone, at least I try NOT TO, (even Lucille Bond) normally. When I am negative I know that I'm feeling blue.
So...in the later afternoon when I couldn't imagine anyone braving the ice storm to come to shop I closed my shop. Then I went to the General Store. I purchased a sturdy sled. I dragged that sled up to a steep hillside (there were already lots of children there). I climbed and slid, climbed and slid, climbed and slid, and climbed and slid. Some of the children looked oddly at me at first but after the 2nd and 3rd times down the hill they all just ignored me.
I was cheated of too much of my childhood by Madame LeRouge. Fortunately for me, I believe that it's never too late to have a happy childhood! So for a couple of hours today I had a very, very happy childhood.
It cheered me up so much that when I was walking back to my home carrying my sled and saw Lucille Bond look at me, sniff, and put her nose up in the air. I just chuckled and thought to myself, "Poor Lucille. You keep your nose up in the air so much that you whole head may get stuck in that awkward position!"
Laughing, I walked home. Home to a warm bath, then a delicious meal, and a clean nightgown...and a warm and toasty bed!
Monday, October 14, 2013
Links to crocheted Christmas Snowflake decorations
I'm including some links here for free patterns to make crocheted Christmas snowflakes. I LOVE making gifts for Christmas. I'm always on the look out for something lovely to make for friends and family who don't need or want pretty much anything. So...here we go:
fabact.com
allfreecrochet.com
freevintagecrochet.com
These are three links with many free crocheted snowflake patterns. I'm going to make certain that I use some form of glitter, or salt which glitters beautifully when added to the starch you use to make your snowflakes hard.
It's NEVER too early to start enjoying, and anticipating Christmas!
fabact.com
allfreecrochet.com
freevintagecrochet.com
These are three links with many free crocheted snowflake patterns. I'm going to make certain that I use some form of glitter, or salt which glitters beautifully when added to the starch you use to make your snowflakes hard.
It's NEVER too early to start enjoying, and anticipating Christmas!
Celeste's Journal
Fluffed with fatness the snowflakes are falling outside my window. It does not snow often here so I'm filled with joy. I'm sitting in my warm shop with the fire crackling next to me crocheting. I LOVE making crocheted Christmas tree ornaments. I haven't made them in a long time. Of course, I didn't make them at Madame's house of horrors. I made them as a child in long ago and far away France. Maman taught me how to crochet...how to knit...how to make things of beauty with my two hands.
I discovered last year that Blake and Red have very manly types of ornaments and decorations at the ranch. They have a few glass ornaments, and some popcorn strings with a few cranberries as well on the strings. That's it. When I asked them why they didn't have more ornaments they looked at me as though I was slightly crazy. Blake said, "Why do we need more ornaments, what we have is plenty." I didn't say anything more but right then and there I determined that this year for this Christmas I would make lacy snowflakes that sparkle to put on that enormous tree they will chop down from the hill behind the ranch.
I wish Eric or Jamie were here with me. I haven't seen them since last Sunday and it's Thursday. I want to be with them all the time and see them grow and change from minute to minute. They are growing up far too fast for my liking.
I long for the company of Blake. His kisses light my heart with fire. He is tender, affectionate, and yet keeps a certain distance always. Sarah told me that he would marry me, to have patience, but I have never been particularly patient. I still haven't decided if seeing Sarah was a dream. I usually believe it was a dream. Yet every once in awhile late at night when I can't sleep, it seems as though it was very, very real.
Well, I'm going to quit writing, and start crocheting. Thanks Mama, if you can see me, read this, for teaching me how to crochet snowflakes for a Christmas tree. I love you Mama, miss you, and I'm grateful for having the best Mama in the world for 14 whole years!
I discovered last year that Blake and Red have very manly types of ornaments and decorations at the ranch. They have a few glass ornaments, and some popcorn strings with a few cranberries as well on the strings. That's it. When I asked them why they didn't have more ornaments they looked at me as though I was slightly crazy. Blake said, "Why do we need more ornaments, what we have is plenty." I didn't say anything more but right then and there I determined that this year for this Christmas I would make lacy snowflakes that sparkle to put on that enormous tree they will chop down from the hill behind the ranch.
I wish Eric or Jamie were here with me. I haven't seen them since last Sunday and it's Thursday. I want to be with them all the time and see them grow and change from minute to minute. They are growing up far too fast for my liking.
I long for the company of Blake. His kisses light my heart with fire. He is tender, affectionate, and yet keeps a certain distance always. Sarah told me that he would marry me, to have patience, but I have never been particularly patient. I still haven't decided if seeing Sarah was a dream. I usually believe it was a dream. Yet every once in awhile late at night when I can't sleep, it seems as though it was very, very real.
Well, I'm going to quit writing, and start crocheting. Thanks Mama, if you can see me, read this, for teaching me how to crochet snowflakes for a Christmas tree. I love you Mama, miss you, and I'm grateful for having the best Mama in the world for 14 whole years!
Monday, October 7, 2013
Celeste's Journal
The minute that I turned my Open sign to Closed and locked my front door tonight I started working on Christmas. I LOVE making gifts for Christmas. As I work on them I think of the joy in the faces of the receivers, and the way that I feel when I'm with these dear ones, friends who are family. I am certain that Maman and Papa watching me are grateful for the good friends that I have.
Yesterday was hard. Lucille Bond has started ignoring me if she sees me when I am out and about in Calkington. In the shop she speaks to me in an extremely patronizing tone. I feel sorry for her. It's obvious that she feels insecure or she would not feel the need to make others around her miserable. It really is a shame because she could do such great good in this world. She has money, and that gives her influence.
Sarah visited me last night in my dreams. She is such a teeny, tiny, thing, even as a ghost. Yet it's remarkable the authority and power she carries. It's very evident that she has been a great leader of people, The People, who were her people.
She shared with me again the difficulty that she had leaving her beloved tribe, marrying Blake, facing all of the distrust and open hostility from the good people of Calkington. Sarah reminded me of the hideous time that she was walking down the Main Street of Calkington and Lucille Bond spit, right in her face, and then just kept walking. At least Lucille only stabs me in the back amongst the town members, and ignores me in public.
Lucille was orphaned as her family traveled to Oregon. Every single member of her family was wiped out at once. Willard was riding a horse and found her barefoot and crying in the middle of a prickly pear patch. He roped her and pulled her to his horse. Willard took her back to camp and one by one extracted the 1/2 inch long prickly pear spines. Next he found a woman in the group that had an extra pair of shoes that Lucille could wear.
Lucille was only fifteen years old but Willard proposed to her. They were married right away. When they arrived in Calkington Willard immediately began the process of starting a bank. There was absolutely no financial institutions of any kind here so with his clever way of handling finances they quickly became rich. Blake told me all of this.
Lucille and I both lost our entire families coming to this place. We both were rescued by Willard Bond. He married and loves Lucille, he gave me a start-up loan to get my business working.
It feels like focusing on those things that we share in common would be so much more useful than constantly being unkind, rude, and participating in bitter gossip. I admire many things about Lucille. She's an excellent cook. She has a garden that is the best that I've ever seen. Her garden seems like a beautiful portrait painted with flowers, fruit, and vegetables.
I've also heard that she is an excellent knitter. I have seen beautiful knitted scarfs on her, and on Willard. I have tried to be friendly towards her but she rebuffs me on every turn. ARGH!
I will now consciously quit thinking about Lucille Bond. After all, I can do absolutely nothing to change her mind, or attitude towards me, only she can do that. Now, back to Christmas. I will have a simple dinner tonight, some bread and milk, and some dried apples that I made several months back.
Yesterday was hard. Lucille Bond has started ignoring me if she sees me when I am out and about in Calkington. In the shop she speaks to me in an extremely patronizing tone. I feel sorry for her. It's obvious that she feels insecure or she would not feel the need to make others around her miserable. It really is a shame because she could do such great good in this world. She has money, and that gives her influence.
Sarah visited me last night in my dreams. She is such a teeny, tiny, thing, even as a ghost. Yet it's remarkable the authority and power she carries. It's very evident that she has been a great leader of people, The People, who were her people.
She shared with me again the difficulty that she had leaving her beloved tribe, marrying Blake, facing all of the distrust and open hostility from the good people of Calkington. Sarah reminded me of the hideous time that she was walking down the Main Street of Calkington and Lucille Bond spit, right in her face, and then just kept walking. At least Lucille only stabs me in the back amongst the town members, and ignores me in public.
Lucille was orphaned as her family traveled to Oregon. Every single member of her family was wiped out at once. Willard was riding a horse and found her barefoot and crying in the middle of a prickly pear patch. He roped her and pulled her to his horse. Willard took her back to camp and one by one extracted the 1/2 inch long prickly pear spines. Next he found a woman in the group that had an extra pair of shoes that Lucille could wear.
Lucille was only fifteen years old but Willard proposed to her. They were married right away. When they arrived in Calkington Willard immediately began the process of starting a bank. There was absolutely no financial institutions of any kind here so with his clever way of handling finances they quickly became rich. Blake told me all of this.
Lucille and I both lost our entire families coming to this place. We both were rescued by Willard Bond. He married and loves Lucille, he gave me a start-up loan to get my business working.
It feels like focusing on those things that we share in common would be so much more useful than constantly being unkind, rude, and participating in bitter gossip. I admire many things about Lucille. She's an excellent cook. She has a garden that is the best that I've ever seen. Her garden seems like a beautiful portrait painted with flowers, fruit, and vegetables.
I've also heard that she is an excellent knitter. I have seen beautiful knitted scarfs on her, and on Willard. I have tried to be friendly towards her but she rebuffs me on every turn. ARGH!
I will now consciously quit thinking about Lucille Bond. After all, I can do absolutely nothing to change her mind, or attitude towards me, only she can do that. Now, back to Christmas. I will have a simple dinner tonight, some bread and milk, and some dried apples that I made several months back.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
More Christmas Giving
In Beth, Women of the Drifting Anchor Ranch, Beth learns how to knit hot pads. I used the same pattern last year to make some hot pads for family and friends for Christmas. The pattern is easy, and fun to make. Best yet, it's double width so you don't burn your hands. I will do a repeat here, so you don't have to search through my posts to find the instructions.
MATERIALS NEEDED
1. Two skeins of acrylic yarn (about 7 oz. in each skein) now if we were doing this project true to the 19th century you would have to take wool, spin it to yarn, and then only wash it by hand...ever. Aren't you glad that we're in the 21st century?
2. Knitting needles size 9 to 11 (no bigger or you WILL have holes in the hotpad to burn your fingers).
3. a crochet hook size G-J
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Cast on thirty stitches.
2. Knit 6 stitches
3. Purl 6 stitches
4. Continue this pattern across the row
5. Alternate this row, purl 6 and then knit 6
6. Do this for 6 rows. Then alternate again, but this
time alternate against the pattern. So if you should be
knitting, now purl, and knit against purl. (Hope that
makes sense.
7. In other words you are changing the pattern every
six rows so that you wind up having a squared pattern
like a game of checkers or a basket.
8. Make the project about 16 to 20 inches long. You
want the item to be long enough to fold it over, and then
crochet it together, so that it will completely cover your
hand. If you are making it for a large man like my
beloved husband was, make it bigger. If you're making
it for an old lady with smaller hands, like me, make it
smaller.
9. Cast off, knitwise when you're at a knit stitch and
purlwise when you're at a purl stitch.
10. Now comes the crocheting part. You have a
decision to make. I prefer to single crochet around
the entire exterior of the hotpad, and THEN crochet
the hot pad together. Some would prefer doing it as
one single action. I just like the more finished edge
that doing two actions give the project.
11. When you are crocheting around to finish the
hotpad, and reach the upper right hand corner of the
hotpad chain stitch 12 stitches, and then join the end
into the hotpad and finish stitching all the way around.
This loop will give you something to hang your hot
pad with.
You can make them any color you wish. I prefer
acrylic yarn over wool because I'm allergic to
wool. On the other hand, acrylic will wash and
dry in a modern washer and dryer. Cotton yarn is
also good, but I'm not certain it makes quite as
durable a product.
MATERIALS NEEDED
1. Two skeins of acrylic yarn (about 7 oz. in each skein) now if we were doing this project true to the 19th century you would have to take wool, spin it to yarn, and then only wash it by hand...ever. Aren't you glad that we're in the 21st century?
2. Knitting needles size 9 to 11 (no bigger or you WILL have holes in the hotpad to burn your fingers).
3. a crochet hook size G-J
INSTRUCTIONS
1. Cast on thirty stitches.
2. Knit 6 stitches
3. Purl 6 stitches
4. Continue this pattern across the row
5. Alternate this row, purl 6 and then knit 6
6. Do this for 6 rows. Then alternate again, but this
time alternate against the pattern. So if you should be
knitting, now purl, and knit against purl. (Hope that
makes sense.
7. In other words you are changing the pattern every
six rows so that you wind up having a squared pattern
like a game of checkers or a basket.
8. Make the project about 16 to 20 inches long. You
want the item to be long enough to fold it over, and then
crochet it together, so that it will completely cover your
hand. If you are making it for a large man like my
beloved husband was, make it bigger. If you're making
it for an old lady with smaller hands, like me, make it
smaller.
9. Cast off, knitwise when you're at a knit stitch and
purlwise when you're at a purl stitch.
10. Now comes the crocheting part. You have a
decision to make. I prefer to single crochet around
the entire exterior of the hotpad, and THEN crochet
the hot pad together. Some would prefer doing it as
one single action. I just like the more finished edge
that doing two actions give the project.
11. When you are crocheting around to finish the
hotpad, and reach the upper right hand corner of the
hotpad chain stitch 12 stitches, and then join the end
into the hotpad and finish stitching all the way around.
This loop will give you something to hang your hot
pad with.
You can make them any color you wish. I prefer
acrylic yarn over wool because I'm allergic to
wool. On the other hand, acrylic will wash and
dry in a modern washer and dryer. Cotton yarn is
also good, but I'm not certain it makes quite as
durable a product.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Christmas Gifting
Items need for project:
1. Regular dotted fabric (not dots that are completely irregular) measure your yardage by the size of the project. This will work for pillowcases, tablecloths, cloth napkins, aprons, pinafores, etc. etc.
2. Embroidery floss (I prefer to buy mine online (they couldn't do that in the 19th century. Sometimes they even spun their own from wool). DC size 5 or 8 embroidery floss...you don't have to figure out how many strands of floss you wish to use...it's already intertwined) 5 is a little coarser, 8 is a little finer.
3. Embroidery hoop (If you are making a larger project like a tablecloth you may wish to have a larger hoop. They come in all sorts of sizes.
4. Crewel embroidery needle (This needle has a bigger eye, and the point is not as sharp). You can use about any needle as long as the eye is big enough for the floss that you choose.
5. Sewing machine (unless you wish to hand seam the seaming part of this project)
6. Sewing machine thread. Choose a color that either is the same as the darkest part of the fabric, or contrast the color if you wish. You don't need any special type of thread for this part of the project.
7. Sewing machine needle. Again this is if you sew the seams by machine.
So...you want to make a gift for Christmas, or for a wedding, birthday, anniversary, etc. etc. Find some fabric with a regular polka dot pattern. The smaller polka dots would suit this purpose the best. You can make pillow cases, dresses, cloth napkins, tablecloths, aprons, pretty much anything your mind can think of. First you figure out the yardage that you will need depending on the end product. For example, pillowcases--two yards of fabric should work great. For larger projects measure...for a table, measure the table. For an apron, that is just below your waist 1 yard, for a pinafore 2 or 3 yards. (You can refer to my post about making a pinafore if you wish a cute pattern to follow).
The next part will be simple straight seaming (unless, of course, you are making a round tablecloth, but even then if the table is too large for the width of the fabric). For a pillowcase you simply turn right sides together, and then seam the side and bottom. Measure the pillow size that you wish to cover (so you don't wind up with a pillow case that is more like a tube than a pillow case). You can also machine stitch the hem at the bottom by turning the seamed pillowcase inside out, and turning the fabric so that the rough edge is under and then seaming it as well. (Be careful, don't accidentally sew through both thicknesses of the pillowcase).
Now, if you are making a tablecloth, again, seam it, hem it, and then we will embroider it.
The fun part comes now. Put your embroidery hoop on the section that you are going to start embroidering. Thread your crewel needle with your floss. Now you get to look at the pillowcase or edge of whatever you choose to make. You will have the fun of designing this pattern. Take the needle from the unfinished side of the project (or whatever type of project) coming up next to one of the dots. If you choose you can simply take the floss from dot to dot side by side, and then come back and cross the dots. Or you can just make a line coming up at the lower portion of the dot and then spanning the dot and going back down in the higher portion of the next dot.
Some people prefer to get grid paper and make their pattern using the little boxes to mimic the dot patterns. You can make this very simple (even simple looks adorable in this project), or you can cross stitch, or simply create other types of designs.
You can edge pillowcases, tablecloths, aprons, any project that you choose to make with dots can be designed and edged with this simple embroidery project. The ladies of the 19th century did not have television, radio, or any of the forms of entertainment that we enjoy today. So they loved creating beauty for their world. They also had very little in the way of cash money. Often they purchased things through barter, or kept a tab at the general store in town. They could NOT sign up for the registry at Bed Bath and Beyond, or Target, etc. etc. So they usually created the presents they gave to friends and family.
Creating beauty, even through simple polka dot stitching, has always given me joy, well wait, not so much until I was 13. Before that I couldn't be bothered with something having to do with a needle and thread. Since then I have definitely made up for those 12 years of non-creation. So I hope that you ENJOY this idea!
P.S. Embellishment if fun to create with this work. Put grosgrain or velvet ribbon on the hemmed edge, and possibly tie a really cute bow and sew it down so it stays tied on the pillowcase. You could add sequins, or buttons, but keep it rather simple because you may not want to sleep on a pillowcase with a huge, hard bow, or great big buttons, right?
By the way some of you may now know what you are getting for Christmas...or maybe not? lol
1. Regular dotted fabric (not dots that are completely irregular) measure your yardage by the size of the project. This will work for pillowcases, tablecloths, cloth napkins, aprons, pinafores, etc. etc.
2. Embroidery floss (I prefer to buy mine online (they couldn't do that in the 19th century. Sometimes they even spun their own from wool). DC size 5 or 8 embroidery floss...you don't have to figure out how many strands of floss you wish to use...it's already intertwined) 5 is a little coarser, 8 is a little finer.
3. Embroidery hoop (If you are making a larger project like a tablecloth you may wish to have a larger hoop. They come in all sorts of sizes.
4. Crewel embroidery needle (This needle has a bigger eye, and the point is not as sharp). You can use about any needle as long as the eye is big enough for the floss that you choose.
5. Sewing machine (unless you wish to hand seam the seaming part of this project)
6. Sewing machine thread. Choose a color that either is the same as the darkest part of the fabric, or contrast the color if you wish. You don't need any special type of thread for this part of the project.
7. Sewing machine needle. Again this is if you sew the seams by machine.
So...you want to make a gift for Christmas, or for a wedding, birthday, anniversary, etc. etc. Find some fabric with a regular polka dot pattern. The smaller polka dots would suit this purpose the best. You can make pillow cases, dresses, cloth napkins, tablecloths, aprons, pretty much anything your mind can think of. First you figure out the yardage that you will need depending on the end product. For example, pillowcases--two yards of fabric should work great. For larger projects measure...for a table, measure the table. For an apron, that is just below your waist 1 yard, for a pinafore 2 or 3 yards. (You can refer to my post about making a pinafore if you wish a cute pattern to follow).
The next part will be simple straight seaming (unless, of course, you are making a round tablecloth, but even then if the table is too large for the width of the fabric). For a pillowcase you simply turn right sides together, and then seam the side and bottom. Measure the pillow size that you wish to cover (so you don't wind up with a pillow case that is more like a tube than a pillow case). You can also machine stitch the hem at the bottom by turning the seamed pillowcase inside out, and turning the fabric so that the rough edge is under and then seaming it as well. (Be careful, don't accidentally sew through both thicknesses of the pillowcase).
Now, if you are making a tablecloth, again, seam it, hem it, and then we will embroider it.
The fun part comes now. Put your embroidery hoop on the section that you are going to start embroidering. Thread your crewel needle with your floss. Now you get to look at the pillowcase or edge of whatever you choose to make. You will have the fun of designing this pattern. Take the needle from the unfinished side of the project (or whatever type of project) coming up next to one of the dots. If you choose you can simply take the floss from dot to dot side by side, and then come back and cross the dots. Or you can just make a line coming up at the lower portion of the dot and then spanning the dot and going back down in the higher portion of the next dot.
Some people prefer to get grid paper and make their pattern using the little boxes to mimic the dot patterns. You can make this very simple (even simple looks adorable in this project), or you can cross stitch, or simply create other types of designs.
You can edge pillowcases, tablecloths, aprons, any project that you choose to make with dots can be designed and edged with this simple embroidery project. The ladies of the 19th century did not have television, radio, or any of the forms of entertainment that we enjoy today. So they loved creating beauty for their world. They also had very little in the way of cash money. Often they purchased things through barter, or kept a tab at the general store in town. They could NOT sign up for the registry at Bed Bath and Beyond, or Target, etc. etc. So they usually created the presents they gave to friends and family.
Creating beauty, even through simple polka dot stitching, has always given me joy, well wait, not so much until I was 13. Before that I couldn't be bothered with something having to do with a needle and thread. Since then I have definitely made up for those 12 years of non-creation. So I hope that you ENJOY this idea!
P.S. Embellishment if fun to create with this work. Put grosgrain or velvet ribbon on the hemmed edge, and possibly tie a really cute bow and sew it down so it stays tied on the pillowcase. You could add sequins, or buttons, but keep it rather simple because you may not want to sleep on a pillowcase with a huge, hard bow, or great big buttons, right?
By the way some of you may now know what you are getting for Christmas...or maybe not? lol
Thursday, September 19, 2013
A Suggestion for a Homemade Christmas present
Ever So Warm, and Attractive, Woolen Scarf (for men or women)
With Christmas just around the corner in our real world, and in Celeste's fictional world it's a great idea to start considering what presents you are giving this year. In Celeste's world she owns and operates a Sewing Shop, LePetit. She is extremely creative but limited in cash. So she decides to make the presents for her family this year. The following is a pattern for a woolen flannel scarf.
MATERIALS NEEDED
1.
1 yard of woolen flannel (plaid or plain,
either is nice)
2. 1 box of straight pins
3. 1 needle (I prefer them with larger eyes, easier to thread)
4. 1 spool of thread to match or contrast with the fabric
5. This is a very easy present to make, but looks absolutely terrific, and helps keep the winter cold away. Determine how wide and how long you wish to make the scarf.
6. If you are making the scarf for a female you may wish to make it a bit narrower since they often have narrower necks
7. Do they like their scarf long enough to wrap it around their neck, or do they prefer it short enough to criss-cross it on their chest and then have their coat over it?
8. Sewing Steps
9. If you wish to make the scarf longer than the fabric you will need to seam the fabric to make it longer.
10. If you are working with plaid you need to decide if you wish the pattern of the plaid to match at the seam.
11. Put the right side of the material against the other right side of the material and sew a seam.
12. You should make the stitches for the seam as tiny, and close as possible so that they don't show on the finished product.
13. Fold the fabric that is as wide and as long as you wish it to be in half, right sides together.
14. Sew the seam again with tiny, frequent stitches.
15. Leave two inches unstitched at the end of the scarf.
16. Push the inside of the scarf through the 2 inch hole, turning the scarf right side out.
17. Use a press cloth (a pillow case is a good
choice) that is slightly damp to press the scarf when finished. Do not EVER press the woolen fabric without a
press cloth. It may singe the fabric, or
permanently damage the texture.
18. Once you have turned the scarf right side out
you can blind stitch the two inches by turning the raw edges in and stitching
inside the seam so that you can’t see the stitches.
VARIATIONS
19. If
you are making the scarf for a woman you can add fringe. Sometimes you can purchase store created
fringe. If you do not have access to
store purchased fringe you can create your own fringe by using yarn. If you use yarn then you need to punch holes
in the wool to loop the fringe through.
I find that punching holes in the woolen fabric is well accomplished
with a drill or by pushing the scissors through and then twisting the blade of
the scissors to make the hole a bit larger.
Using yarn you can fold the yarn in half, and then make a slip-knot
through the hole with one strand of yarn, or you can use six strands of yarn to
get a fuller fringed look.
20. You
can embroider a monogrammed initial on the end of the scarf. The monogrammed letter can be as large or
small as you wish to make it.
21. I
will put a pattern here on my blog for different monogrammed letters in the
next day or two that you can copy and use for any monogramming purpose that you
have in mind.
Celeste's Journal
Christmas is coming. The realization today stopped me in my tracks. I immediately sat down and began to plan the presents I would give this year. I decided that the men at the ranch would get warm, woolen scarves. It doesn't snow much here, but it's so humid that the cold seems to penetrate right through your clothes. A warm woolen scarf would keep their necks warm.
I also am going to make monogrammed handkerchiefs. I will make a few out of some soft muslin that I have. I will bleach the muslin to make it white. I have white embroidery floss. So I will draw out the letters, and practice them on paper. Then I will oh so lightly outline them with a pencil on the muslin. I am also going to monogram some handkerchiefs out of more practical bandana type of material. I will make the embroidery on those bright, bold, and masculine.
For Sophrie's family I will make a tablecloth out of gingham, and embroider a border around the edges. I will make presents for Sophrie's family because Sophrie is my only friend in this town. She knows about my past but loves me in spite of it. I am grateful everyday for my Sophrie friend.
I will make a scarf and handkerchiefs for Doc Stone as well. He has been so very good to me. He has always treated me with dignity and respect. Better yet, he has consciously worked on making me feel comfortable to have a male friend. He looks nothing like my Papa, but he is kind, and funny the way my Papa was. His similarities to my Papa have helped me to not dwell on the missing of my beloved Papa.
I need to make some fun toys for the boys. I think that I will make Jamie some finger puppets. I will also make him a stuffed toy, maybe a lion or an elephant? I'll have to think about that. Eric, I'll make him a checkerboard, and checkboard pieces. Jamie is too young to play with Eric, but I'm certain that Red and Blake will be happy to play with Eric. I will also enjoy playing with him.
It's the first part of October, I have extra work to do for my shop. Many orders have come in for Christmas presents, shirts, dresses, etc. I don't have any wool flannel left. I'll go to the General Store tomorrow and buy some to make the scarves with.
All of a sudden I'm excited. I love Christmas. I miss celebrating it with my beloved family. I miss the traditions of my homeland. Yet I'm sharing those traditions with the boys. It's always good to remember that there are many good people in the world who celebrate Christ's birthday.
We have one Jewish family that recently moved to Calkington. There have unfortunately been many actions of hate and prejudice towards them. I took them dinner last week. I know that they are struggling financially. They have 8 children, and Mr. Feinstein has been too ill to earn a living for the family. Hmmm, that gives me an idea. I have heard that Mrs. Feinstein is an excellent seamstress. I wonder if she would like some money this Christmas? I could use her help, she would get some money for Christmas. I'll go this afternoon and visit her.
I'd better quit writing, and start into my day. A joyous day as I think of all the lovely things that I'm going to do!
I also am going to make monogrammed handkerchiefs. I will make a few out of some soft muslin that I have. I will bleach the muslin to make it white. I have white embroidery floss. So I will draw out the letters, and practice them on paper. Then I will oh so lightly outline them with a pencil on the muslin. I am also going to monogram some handkerchiefs out of more practical bandana type of material. I will make the embroidery on those bright, bold, and masculine.
For Sophrie's family I will make a tablecloth out of gingham, and embroider a border around the edges. I will make presents for Sophrie's family because Sophrie is my only friend in this town. She knows about my past but loves me in spite of it. I am grateful everyday for my Sophrie friend.
I will make a scarf and handkerchiefs for Doc Stone as well. He has been so very good to me. He has always treated me with dignity and respect. Better yet, he has consciously worked on making me feel comfortable to have a male friend. He looks nothing like my Papa, but he is kind, and funny the way my Papa was. His similarities to my Papa have helped me to not dwell on the missing of my beloved Papa.
I need to make some fun toys for the boys. I think that I will make Jamie some finger puppets. I will also make him a stuffed toy, maybe a lion or an elephant? I'll have to think about that. Eric, I'll make him a checkerboard, and checkboard pieces. Jamie is too young to play with Eric, but I'm certain that Red and Blake will be happy to play with Eric. I will also enjoy playing with him.
It's the first part of October, I have extra work to do for my shop. Many orders have come in for Christmas presents, shirts, dresses, etc. I don't have any wool flannel left. I'll go to the General Store tomorrow and buy some to make the scarves with.
All of a sudden I'm excited. I love Christmas. I miss celebrating it with my beloved family. I miss the traditions of my homeland. Yet I'm sharing those traditions with the boys. It's always good to remember that there are many good people in the world who celebrate Christ's birthday.
We have one Jewish family that recently moved to Calkington. There have unfortunately been many actions of hate and prejudice towards them. I took them dinner last week. I know that they are struggling financially. They have 8 children, and Mr. Feinstein has been too ill to earn a living for the family. Hmmm, that gives me an idea. I have heard that Mrs. Feinstein is an excellent seamstress. I wonder if she would like some money this Christmas? I could use her help, she would get some money for Christmas. I'll go this afternoon and visit her.
I'd better quit writing, and start into my day. A joyous day as I think of all the lovely things that I'm going to do!
Monday, September 16, 2013
Celeste's Journal
Sniffles, sneezes, and a deep cough have kept me from having any customers today. I left the closed sign on the door, and added a, "Sorry but I'm sick," note to the bottom. I still have sewed most of the day. Somehow feeling sick makes me feel great longing for my dead family.
Today I was remembering. When we left France for America we had sold most of our belongings, and packed just the very basic necessities. We were in the wagon ready to drive to a small ship that would take us to Liverpool England. Then at Liverpool we would transfer to a larger ship that would take us to Astoria, Oregon.
Papa said, "Family look up." There had been a rain storm that lasted most of the night and into the morning. Finally as we were ready to go the sun came out. High over our heads was a sparkling rainbow. Papa said, "The rainbow is a sign that we are doing the right thing. I know that this is a sacrifice for all of us to leave our home, a secure employment, friends, and family for the unknown wilds of Western America. Still I believe that God will bless us. He will prepare a way for us to create Benoit's Finest Wines. Remember that rainbow means everything will work out."
I feel great bitterness fill my heart thinking about my family at the bottom of the ocean. So much for Papa's fine wines. The rainbow was beautiful that day. I kept that rainbow in my heart, so bright, so promising. Then when my entire family died I swore that I would run and hide if I ever saw a rainbow again. I decided that it was a sign of evil, or that something really bad was about to happen.
I'm trying to change that perspective. If I saw each rainbow here in Calkington as a portent of something bad there would be more awful than good. It rains so much here. There are rainbows at least several times a week.
Maman always told us that even dying was not a bad thing. She said that if we loved God and lived the best life that we could we would all be reunited and live happily with God after death. I don't know about that. I still am not convinced that God really cares at all about humanity. There are so many of us...how could he possibly keep track of all of us?
In addition, if God DOES know us, why does he let awful things happen to good people, and wonderful things happen for wicked people? Well that's enough thinking about such deep topics. My head hurts. I'm going to make myself some hot lemon juice and honey, drink it, eat a piece of bread and butter and go to sleep.
Today I was remembering. When we left France for America we had sold most of our belongings, and packed just the very basic necessities. We were in the wagon ready to drive to a small ship that would take us to Liverpool England. Then at Liverpool we would transfer to a larger ship that would take us to Astoria, Oregon.
Papa said, "Family look up." There had been a rain storm that lasted most of the night and into the morning. Finally as we were ready to go the sun came out. High over our heads was a sparkling rainbow. Papa said, "The rainbow is a sign that we are doing the right thing. I know that this is a sacrifice for all of us to leave our home, a secure employment, friends, and family for the unknown wilds of Western America. Still I believe that God will bless us. He will prepare a way for us to create Benoit's Finest Wines. Remember that rainbow means everything will work out."
I feel great bitterness fill my heart thinking about my family at the bottom of the ocean. So much for Papa's fine wines. The rainbow was beautiful that day. I kept that rainbow in my heart, so bright, so promising. Then when my entire family died I swore that I would run and hide if I ever saw a rainbow again. I decided that it was a sign of evil, or that something really bad was about to happen.
I'm trying to change that perspective. If I saw each rainbow here in Calkington as a portent of something bad there would be more awful than good. It rains so much here. There are rainbows at least several times a week.
Maman always told us that even dying was not a bad thing. She said that if we loved God and lived the best life that we could we would all be reunited and live happily with God after death. I don't know about that. I still am not convinced that God really cares at all about humanity. There are so many of us...how could he possibly keep track of all of us?
In addition, if God DOES know us, why does he let awful things happen to good people, and wonderful things happen for wicked people? Well that's enough thinking about such deep topics. My head hurts. I'm going to make myself some hot lemon juice and honey, drink it, eat a piece of bread and butter and go to sleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)