Words from the Heart

The quilt arrived quite by surprise.  Roger's Mom was "down-sizing" and sent it along home with him one night.  Over fifty years old, it looks as if it has just been made.  Each stitch as straight as the day it was sewn, each piece of cloth still bright.  I was thrilled! You see, the reason this is so special to me is that it was handmade.  I mean really handmade.  Every stitch was placed by hand, not machine. I am in awe of such work. (This is not to say that machine made quilts are not special, also.  I have seen some that are breathtaking works of art.  I am simply in awe of those made with a needle and thread by a woman/women one stitch at a time.)   There was a day when handwork was expected.  Women if they did not have a specialty, at least knew the basics of sewing, knitting, crocheting, weaving, lace making and tatting. In a pinch, they could do what needed to be done to make something to wear, create a gift, or ...

One of the best things we did when we began our attempts at being "Green" was to purchase a farm share.  In our community they are called CISA (Community Involved in Sustainable Agriculture) shares. In other communities these shares may be called CSA or Community Supported Agriculture.  However way you call them, they are a wonderful way to support local farms as well as help keep our planet healthy. Our share comes from a family run farm down the road from us.  Enterprise Farm is filled with young men and women who are dedicated to creating a healthy environment for both themselves and their community. One of the best parts of our share program is that the farm offers pick-your-own veggies as well as flowers.  Each week during the summer and early fall, we can go to the farm and cut our own flowers. Subsequently, my house is filled with small vases of colorful flora that brighten up dark corners and surprise visitors because I place them in unusual places ...

  Photo Credit: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3c/Curveball_topspin.svg Sometimes, Life throws you one of those curve balls that comes out of no where, or at least appears to come out of no where.  We have a few choices.  We can run like heck to catch the ball.  Curl up and hope it doesn't hit us.  Or, we can simply stand still and wait, hoping someone else will catch it. Recently, a curve ball was sent spiraling into my family.  Since I can neither curl up, nor stand still, I am running like crazy.  I hope and pray that this ball will be caught and all will be well.  I know this all seems cryptic, and it is.  Let me tell you a story... My brother, Barry and I are what my mother called "Irish Twins." I was born in September and he was born in November the next year.  When we were growing up people thought we were twins.  I never minded.  I love Barry.     Barry and I on the first day ...