a birthday bunny

sitting in the sunshine, the glorious sunshine, stitching the head together.

half a bunny, with whiskers.

liberty of london scraps for her dress.

rosy cheeks and a pink nose.

at the last minute, i gathered her sleeves at the wrists.

so many fun places to play…on the threshold of the hoop house, amongst the daffodils, hanging on the clothesline and scoping out the raised beds.

…and sitting on the garden bench with a pal.

Well friends, sometimes we just need some fun, am I right? Thought you might enjoy seeing what I made for a certain someone who turns two this week.

Do you know Alicia Paulson’s delightful blog Posie Gets Cozy? I think Alicia’s was one of the very first blogs I started following years ago. I ordered a bunny kit from her and stitched it up for myself, the pattern is here. Then I went on the make a fox for Gretta, a cat for Dawn and a bunny for my Mumsie

It seemed like it was time to make another critter, and I’m hoping little grand daughter Flora with enjoy finding this latest version on her doorstep soon. All of my daughters are fans of Liberty of London fabric and whenever we use this precious fabric in a project, we are sure to save every little bit of leftover scrap. I had made a sun bonnet for Maggie when she was a toddler and saved the leftovers. Now her cousin will have a bunny dressed in that very same fabric. xo

“toot toots” made by batman for the birthday girl. (sailing on watery linen, hand dyed with home grown indigo.)

Lindsey has an app on her phone that allows her to see which freighters will be passing along the Detroit River each day. She and Flora will sometimes go to a playground along the river and wait for a big ship to pass. Flora points her finger and says “toot toot” as it chugs by. When I was there in April, we actually saw a pilot boat in action. It came along the river in the opposite direction of the freighter, turned around midstream and pulled up along the freighter matching its speed. The pilot grabbed a ladder and swung himself up onto the freighter. At that point, he took over the piloting of the ship, as he knew the local waters better than the captain of the freighter. How cool is that? (Maybe you already knew how that works, but it was a fun new piece of learning for me.) :-)

Today is what I call “Crayola crayon Spring Green Day.” When we woke up, the birches down at the bottom of our meadow were nearly bare. This afternoon, the leaves have begun to pop out and you can watch the explosion of color happen from hour to hour. There’s a day each year that feels this way, that spring has finally spring for real. It’s 87 degrees up here on the ridge…a crazy blast of heat that will last for a few days. Then, blessedly, temperatures will return to normal.

Yesterday we drove up and over the mountains to Shoreham, where my friend Pauline has been growing indigo seedlings. Golden Russet Farm sits on emerald green swaths of farmland near Lake Champlain. I was delighted to catch up with Pauline, and buy some seedlings from her. I also bought a generous handful of asparagus cut from their fields that morning. It was a glorious day to be traveling in Vermont, and I must confess that we had maple creemees for supper.

Finding joy and happiness and hope is an act of resistance friends, may we all flex our gratitude muscles and carry on.

Where are you finding loveliness and beauty and gratitude, friends? Let me know in the comments, below.

xo

what a week

spring beauties

“In our time of disturbance and radical change, we are crossing a threshold, a portal, or an unseen bridge from one world to another. It could be said that the bridge is either collapsing beneath us, or being made as we walk together, in the long twilight hours when one civilization gives way to another.” -Geneen Marie Haugen

fiddleheads

“My heart is moved by all I cannot save:

so much has been destroyed

I have cast my lot with those

who age after age, perversely,

with no extraordinary power,

reconstitute the world.”

-Adrienne Rich

baby lettuces in the hoop house

“If you think you are too small to make a difference try sleeping with a mosquito.” -Dalai Lama

“Start acting like you are a member of a compassionate majority up against a desperate, fearful and shrinking majority. Because you are.” -Ethan Nichtern

“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in the darkness for the light that is you.” -L. R. Knost

Dearest friends, I think I wrote this post more for me than for you. :-) This is a collection of words that pull me back to center when I feel like I am spinning out of control. Perhaps they will help you, too, as we sit in the midst of a maelstrom here in America. (I cannot even seem to type “United States of America” because for me, it no longer feels true.)

And I leave you with Corita Kent…”Doing and making are acts of hope.”

Let us pick up needles this weekend, and spades and hoes and spatulas and pens and paintbrushes and wrenches and hammers and clay and looms and…find some sanctuary from all that distracts us. And be HOPEFUL.

And keep on shining your light.

xoxoxoxoxox

giddiness

HAPPY MAY DAY FRIENDS! Some of us are partial to the tradition of dancing around the maypole, some of us celebrate workers all over the world…maybe you have your own version of May Day! In any case, I am giddy because spring has finally arrived on Braintree Hill. The sky is blue, the sun is bright and it’s 68 degrees! I am drunk with joy.

Today we spent some time at our local garden center and then we went to Creek House Diner for our very first maple creemee of the season. Until you have tasted a creemee you cannot even imagine the dreaminess of this dairy treat. We sent a “selfie” to our kids and they swooned with longing for their own creemees. We came home and washed the screens that had been stored in the woodshed over the winter. Each room now has a screen in at least one window and over the next few days we’ll install all of them. FRESH AIR in the house! Batman did a good bit of gardening, both in the raised beds and the hoop house. I put together a bouquet of Tête-À-Tête daffodils and Scilla and snuck down to our neighbor’s house and left it along with some blueberry muffins on their doorstop. Their goat herd has increased this spring with a new batch of kids and they have gifted us (now and then) with homemade Chève cheese and buttermilk made with goat’s milk. I baked the muffins with the local buttermilk. Outstanding.

I thought you might like to see our very own version of Dorothy’s Yellow Brick Road (above.) The coltsfoot is blooming along the side of the road and it really is dazzling on a sunny day. You can read about coltsfoot here.

Corazón and Wilma have been coaching me this weekend as I work to get a piece with a deadline finished up.

Here’s a sneak peek at the very start of the piece.

In an effort to keep myself working on challenges, I plan to submit a piece, invited by this call to artists. Gotta stay vulnerable in order to grow, am I right?

I sure do hope you are finding some simple happiness in the midst of these upside down days of 2022. Sending you hope and encouragement to do whatever small thing you can do to make this world a better place. xo

still waiting for spring

Happy Sunday, friends!

Here in Vermont, our usual mud season was not usual. In fact some called it epic, some Biblical, others called it relentless. Newspapers wrote articles, documenting with words and photos, the prolonged, messy and challenging weeks of impassable roads. Vermont’s free and independent newspaper, Seven Days, has a regular column called “Stuck in Vermont”. A few weeks back, they sent a reporter out into the field to do a story on being “Stuck in Vermont”, really stuck. There’s a fun video report featuring a town just a bit south of us, where a woman is carrying on the tradition of keeping folks appraised of road conditions in real time. Click here to see how my friend Sue and her neighbors deal with the roads in the springtime.

Batman and I make sure our pantry is ready for mud season, and that our windowsill has greens growing in the sunshine. We stayed on the hill for five days in a row in late March. Then we planned our trips for early in the morning when the mud was still frozen, so that we could get down and back before the roads began to warm up in the sun. Folks were checking in with neighbors and ATV’s were tuned up for possible emergency medical trips. It really was an unusual season, causing a bit of unease as we wonder what may be coming with warmer and earlier springs.

But hey, there’s more to life than fretting and worrying, right?

For instance…the season of drying laundry on the clothesline in the sunshine! My friend Stacy sent me these heirloom clothespins because she is a kindred spirit when it comes to air drying her laundry. And she is generous and thoughtful. Handcrafted in Washington State with local maple, they are made to be handed down through the generations. Top quality, long lasting, win win. You can read all about the clothespins at Lady and the Carpenter, here.

I went into the post office a few days ago to buy some stamps and was delighted to hear a charming sign of spring…the precious cheep cheeping of baby chicks, waiting in ventilated cartons to be picked up and taken to their new homes. Brave pansies are fluttering in the chilly breezes at our local gardening center and we picked up our year’s supply of very special maple syrup from neighbors over the ridge. Raven Hill Farm and Anchor Light Farm collaborate every spring to make maple syrup the very old fashioned way. Maple sap gathered in the woods from taps hung with buckets, loaded onto a horse drawn sled and evaporated with wood harvested from the forest, this syrup is the real deal. Check out their story here.

I used chives from the garden the other day and I’m keeping an eye out for the wild ramps that grow out by the stonewall. Batman has all sorts of seeds started under lights in the utility room, on the windowsill downstairs and tucked into the hoop house. The rototiller has been warmed up in anticipation of creating a new wildflower bed, soon to be filled with pollinators. We spent some time in the fall rejuvenating the area in the meadow where I’m channeling Miss Rumphius, coaxing more and more lupine to naturalize. Fingers crossed.

The quilt shown above was stitched in 2015, and I named it Persephone, as it’s made with fat quarters from Spoonflower splashed with pussy willows, forsythia, maple wings and maiden hair ferns. The fabric is designed by Holly Ward Bimba and you can see it here. When I was a little girl, my bedroom was wallpapered with a design that wove pussy willow and forsythia branches together and I still have a partial roll of it tucked away in a closet. I dream of having a bit of it lining a cupboard or some such thing when I am an elderly woman, to remind me of springs past.

So as the grey and chilly days drag on, and the soil remains too damp and cold to dig, I hold fast on to hope. Hope that our gardens and yard will come alive again soon…hope that all the good in the world will be recognized and celebrated (because there is a lot of good in the world)…hope that all of us will bring our loving energy into each and every day.

xo

here, there and everywhere

Playing in little puddles with Flora in Detroit.

Hello friends!

I am finally back on the hill enjoying some peace and quiet while I get my feet tucked back under myself! I have been on the go since late March, when I spent a few days helping my Mumsie in Massachusetts navigate some medical issues. Thankfully, all is fine now. Then a few days later, we headed to the Midwest to meet little Theodore and to visit our other grandkids. What a delight to have ten days with all four kids and their spouses, too. A few days after I got home from Michigan, a dear friend from our time in CT arrived to stay for a bit. Frances came up on the train and we realized it has been nearly 2 1/2 years since we have last been together. Now that she has returned home, I have had a chance to take a deep breath, relax my shoulders and think about the days and weeks ahead.

I’ve been taking notes along the way and have so many fun links and thoughts and experiences to share with you, friends. I’ll be posting more often to make sure to stay in better touch these next few weeks.

All of us tested for COVID, and some chose to wear masks, according to risk of exposure out in the world. Maggie, Gretta and I spent some time chatting and drawing at Hannah’s house. xo

Before I sign off, let me share some beauty with you. Today is Charlotte Brontë’s birthday. British artist Hannah Nunn has a lovely post over at her blog, here, where she highlights some commissioned work she did for The Brontë Society on the occasion of Charlotte’s 200th birthday a few years ago. I have long dreamed of having some of Hannah’s Charlotte’s Garden wallpaper hanging in my house, but, alas, rereading Charlotte’s books will have to do. :-)

So friends, may the freshness of spring bring you hope. Know that I send you hugs wherever you are, and keep you in my thoughts.

xo

the end of march and her precious snowdrops

snowdrops blooming under one of the crabapple trees.

One of my favorite books from my grandmother’s library, along with some vintage buttons from her sewing box. Fabric is a Liberty of London cotton floral. (I think the book may have come to my grandmother via her Aunt Adelaide.)

“Friend in need—hope”

With a flourish, on the page facing the inside front cover.

Friends, I offer this post as a place holder, while we tend to some things that need to be tended to. Not to worry. Sometimes life just puts a little squeeze on us, eh? I’ll be back here as soon as I can be, with fun updates. xo

"tiny and new"

Hello friends! It’s official, happy spring! (At least here in the northern hemisphere.) The brave little snowdrops are blooming, the pussy willows are fluffing up and we leave our bedroom window open a crack to listen for the spring peepers to begin singing (not quite yet.)

And I continue to sew away my anxiety about the world! My sewing studio provides sanctuary and I remain grateful for its shelter.

The other day I popped into our local-ish quilt store to buy a spool of thread and some quilt batting for my next collaborative quilt (more on that later this month.) As I stood at the counter to pay, a mini charm pack began to call to me. For those of you who may not know what a charm pack is, let me explain. Many fabric manufacturers put together bundles of pre-cut fabric squares. They include bits of a complete line of fabric from a given designer, often in the entire color range. The one that was calling to me was a packet of 2.5” squares, in the sweetest range of colors. The line of fabric was called tiny and new. It’s as if that little packet of fabric knew I was the grandma of a tiny and new baby boy.

I don’t usually fall for the tricks of fabric marketers, preferring to use fabric from my stash, or old clothes or vintage linens. But I fell for it. I bought that little charm pack. I brought it home and sewed those little squares together lickety split. Then I pulled a linen/cotton blend out of my stash and stitched it together with the squares to create a “tummy time quilt”, for little Theo to hang out on.

I used a grey and white checkered gingham for the backing. I had bought it for a summer top that never got made. The binding was sewn with some leftover fabric from a project I made from Umbrella Prints, a now defunct fabric company in Australia.

This little quilt came together in just a few days and Theo has already found it in his mailbox. :-)

As many of my long time readers know, I have deep connections to my alma mater, Earlham College. There are so many stories I could tell of how this special liberal arts college tucked in a small town in Indiana has touched my life over the years. Here is one of the sweetest stories of all…

When our son Stewart was born, one of my dearest college friends, Martha, sent him a bunny. “Bunbun” was cherished for years, tucked under Stewart’s arm on car trips, snuggled into bed with him and packed into Stewart’s footlocker when he went off to summer camp. True confessions? “Bunbun” even went off to college with Stewart. I took a picture of him sitting in his dorm room at the beginning of New Student Week (at that very same college that brought Martha and I together), holding up the bun for documentation! For the sake of privacy, I will not post that here. :-)

Imagine how my heart melted when Stewart sent this photo of Theo with Stewart’s bunny by his side.

No matter what, friends, there is still strong love and hope alive and well in this world. We may need to look for it sometimes, but when we find it, it’s worth talking about and sharing. xoxoxoxoxoxox

PS Ann (another Earlham friend) had asked for info on how to care for amaryllis plants in the comments on my last blog post. Look here for lots of good stuff about amaryllis.

holding as steady as we can

Looking north, from the top of our driveway, taken this morning.

Hello friends,

The temperatures up here fluctuate a lot this time of year…freezing cold overnight and somewhat warmer during the day. These are the days of sugaring here in Vermont, when the sap runs from the taps. It’s also when the roads soften up, get muddy and become rutted by the tire tracks, creating what amounts to carnival rides to town. On Thursday I noticed our road had been “posted” at the bottom, notifying drivers that there are now vehicle weight limits due to the muddy conditions. Any sort of big deliveries will need to wait until the roads dry out in a month or so.

My friend Becca came by for tea and a walk on the road on Friday morning. As we were sitting in the kitchen we spotted a red winged blackbird in the lilac out front, which, in turn, reminded both of us that we had seen bluebirds in our neighborhoods. We put on our boots and jackets and headed out onto the road and could smell spring in the chilly air. Snow melt was gurgling under the culverts and out into the meadows below. Some of the trees are coloring up with their brave little buds. But as we walked, we could also see the looming clouds, scuttling along ahead of the forecasted winter storm.

Amaryllis and other bulbs, getting ready to bloom on the windowsill. Photo taken this morning, after the storm blew in yesterday and last night.

This morning, after a stormy night, we awoke to fresh snow, sculpted into lovely drifts by the wind. We know this “sugar snow” won’t last long, as the warmth of the sunshine lasts longer each day.

I have recently picked up my darning egg and done some literal mending. Meditating on fixing broken and worn things, I keep thoughts of our world close to my heart. Some days I feel more powerless and sad than I ever have in my whole long life.

So I go in search of relief. I have listened to this episode of On Being several times. Krista speaks with Christine Runyan in an episode first aired in March, 2021, called “What’s Happening in Our Nervous Systems?”

Another episode, “Trauma, the Body, and 2021”, with Bessel van Der Kolk is worth a listen.

Both of these episodes acknowledge, honor and explain the trauma we are all living with. They offer insight and strategies for navigating these times. Perhaps you will find some comfort in these conversations…

The second stalk sent up on a sturdy amaryllis bulb gifted to us by beloved neighbors down the road, ready to bloom!

I read a fascinating article to inform some of the volunteer work I do here in Central Vermont. It’s a long and deep dive into food insecurity, but it’s filled with great ideas that are working in our rural neck of the woods. “How Pandemic Need, Federal Dollars and Local Collaboration Are Driving Better Ways to Help Food-Insecure Vermonters” maybe be a daunting title, but if you read it, you’ll come away with hope for the future. It reminds me of why I love living in a small, rural state, where people pitch in to help one another. You can find the article here.

And here’s another dose of hope. Remember the British artist I mentioned in my last blog post? As of last Thursday, Hannah Nunn had raised over 10,000 pounds with her sunflower cutouts to aid Ukraine. Go take a peek at the lovely images of sunflowers hanging in the windows of her village here.

Let us step into a new week ahead, not defeated by the ugliness in our world, but by bringing our own light into everything we do. I invite you to look folks in the eye and smile. The crinkle in your eyes behind your mask will do the world some good. I promise.

xo

staying afloat

Perhaps you have already read that the sunflower is the national flower of Ukraine. According to The Washington Post, sunflowers have become a global symbol of resistance, unity and hope. You can read the article here.

This morning, I read British artist Hannah Nunn’s blog post about a fundraiser she is doing to support people who have been displaced as a result of the crisis. You can read about how Hannah was drawn into taking concrete action here. Her laser cut sunflowers are a beautiful offering in her shop, all procedes will help Choose Love and you can read about them here.

Even as the conflict escalates and seems more overwhelming, people around the world are finding ways to send support to folks caught in the insanity of a despot whose hubris knows no bounds.

I have no idea of what it feels like to be in such a place of conflict. Yet I feel anxious and heart broken and a bit useless. Once I honored those feelings, I began to look around for things to do, ways to help.

I offer two groups to support if you are able.

Batman and I have been loyal supporters of the American Friends Service Committee for years. Founded in 1917, the AFSC “promotes a world free of violence, inequality and oppression”. You can read about the work the AFSC does in the world here.

Chef José Andrés and his World Central Kitchen began serving hot, nourishing meals in Poland within a day of the initial attack on Ukraine and they are now set up at eight border crossings. Read more here.

I try to remember that each morning we wake up gives us an opportunity to make some small change in the world. I may not be helping in Ukraine, but I can help support those who are. And I can actually do what I can in this small corner of the world, volunteering with groups that resonate with my values.

Perhaps you have ideas of ways to take action during this disconcerting time. Please drop a link or thought in the comments, below. I’m guessing all of us would appreciate them.

And in the midst of the madness, there are still bits of joy to recognize and celebrate. Theodore Alan* arrived safely into our world this week. He was a bit early, and his mama and papa (our son, Stewart) navigated some challenging times in the past few months, but all is well now! Our first grandson, Theo joins Maggie and Flora out in the midwest, where cousins are adding up fast! Hannah and her Loren are expecting a baby girl this summer, so we will be trekking out that way more often, for sure.

Dearest ones, know that I am keeping thoughts of each of you close to my heart. These are not easy times to live in, but I will not give up to despair and gloom. If I can cheer you in any way by writing here, I remain grateful for your audience. Steady on.

xoxoxoxo

*Alan was my dad’s name, and I confess I got a bit teary when I heard the news of Theodore’s name.

vintage linen

In an effort to find some escape from world news this week, I spent time at my Bernina, working on a spur-of-the-moment project.

After we did our house renovations here in Vermont we moved our furniture from our previous house into the new space. We dreamed of “someday” swapping out the old pieces for some that fit better into the updated living room. Almost six years later, we finally have a sectional sofa…one that you can sink into and soak in the view…one that stands up to the fun of grandchildren, cats and boisterous gatherings (someday soon?).

And just FYI, we have nearly found homes for the pieces that we no longer need.

We wanted to keep the old ottoman, but give it a facelift, so I went to my fabric cupboard. After a bit of rummaging I squealed with delight when I found a pair my grandmother’s linen curtains.

As I have written about before, I grew up next door to my paternal grandparents and adored my grandmother. She was stern and a bit distant, but I loved her dearly. Her home was gracious and lovely, and if you looked closely you could see signs of her Yankee frugality everywhere. When a bedsheet showed signs of wear, she would cut it down the middle, flip the worn middle part of the sheet for the sturdier edges and sew it back up the middle. She also tended gorgeous perennial beds nearly every afternoon when she got home from teaching English at our local high school.

Gram had a tiny sitting room tucked away from the main living space in her home. She called it her “shell room”, where she had a beautiful collection of sea shells displayed on a tall, skinny bookcase. These curtains hung on either side of a dutch door that led out to a porch, set atop the roof of her tenants’ porch below. I remember sitting with her on a metal glider as dusk fell, just talking quietly about our days.

Gram died just a week short of her 91st birthday, and I was gutted by her departure from this world. When my dad was working to clear out her place, I headed East (from Chicagoland) and collected a few domestic treasures from her kitchen and cupboards (and curtain rods). Nearly thirty years later they remain some of the workhorses in my kitchen, and I remember her every time I use them. She is still with me in so many ways.

The selvedge on the fabric reads “Puritan Linen, Design Chartreuse”. Here you can see some of my Gram’s meticulous hand stitching (she did not own a sewing machine) and her stork scissors.

I had barely enough fabric to make this slipcover work, and I sewed it to highlight my Grammie’s stitches alongside those of my beloved Bernina. It had to be frugally pieced, and so the design repeats are choppy, but I think that adds to the charm. I have two small pieces left, so this fabric will show up again, somewhere else. :-)

It’s funny that I love this so much. Much of our home is Shaker simple, but I guess I value sentiment and repurposing as well.

I got my first shingle shot last week and spent a few days laying low. I read Rhys Bowen’s book The Venice Sketchbook cover to cover in a day. What a luxury to clear my calendar and sip tea and read all day! If you are looking for an escapist read, this book is a gem.

This week we had very moderate temperatures. Some folks have already started to tap their maple trees. The road turned to deeply rutted mud tracks and then froze solid overnight. Today 8-12” of snow is falling. When we heard the forecast, we took a small chicken out of the freezer to roast today. My tiny 2022 harvest of windowsill Meyer lemons will flavor the bird, along with wee onions from the gardens here at our bit of earth. How I wish I could set a spot at the table for each of you, dearest ones. We could hold hands around the table, exhale and sink into a moment of silence and then share a meal. It would be lovely to have your company.

For now, I send comfort to each of you, as we hold our breath and wait to see what tomorrow will bring.

xo