The Seamstress...

 

My mother was a seamstress, so this one's for her.  She lived and breathed everything having to do with needle, thread, and cloth.  Her epithet should have definitely read, "I cannot count a day complete until needle, thread, and cloth meet..."  But that's with one exception.  She did not sew on Sunday, unless, as she sometimes said, "... the ox is in the ditch."  Her mother had admonished her as a young girl for sewing on the Lord's Day  by saying, "You'll be taking those stitches out with the end of your nose come judgement day."  

This is my favorite drawing thus far.  I dressed it up a bit with a piece of Deb Lactivia's hand dyed brocade for a collar and hair ribbon.  (I don't recall Mom ever having worn such a ribbon in her hair, but I think she would have worn one well, for she was quite pretty.

I took up needle and thread a couple of days ago just to see if I could still do a little needle-turned applique, which I have always enjoyed doing.  These little one-inch squares were a bit fussy to work with, but also fun as they reflected the colors going on outside the windows.  

However, after having stitched for a couple of hours, I was ready to get back to some sketched and watered colored pages which has been such an enjoyable project.  I can surely ditto Ann Wood's words here, "A large part of the value of this project has been getting somewhere I did not plan to go.  That's the huge benefit of a daily art practice.  Stuff turns up."  It's the stuff that keeps turning up that I am enjoying so much.  

A while back, friend Kathy sent me some of her exquisite eco-dyed papers.  I am sure she would agree when she finished these that "Stuff turns up."  I can't think of anything that says fall like these papers do.  I love them.

This week marked my and Millie's 200th day walking anniversary.  I am gaining on that 1,347 day record we had back before last winter's blizzard and sickness.  I have actually been surprised this week at how pretty some of our fall colors are now following such a hot, dry summer.  Hopefully this trend will continue right into November.

Field Notes...

 

Rain this morning... after such a long time without this blessing.  .4 of an inch.  

The little flower garden has been stripped to the bare bones.  A 48 inch border has been added along the fence.  It has now been covered in landscaping fabric and straw.  Seeds await next spring's planting.  

It seems that the woods are becoming more colorful each day. 

Pink along the trail... I have been missing the pink zinnias.  I am calling the colored sketch below, "Klee and Me."  I have been noticing that he often uses touches of pink in many of his paintings. 

My Cup Runneth Over...

 

Fall is off to a magnificent start here on the hill, and I am determined that we'll not be allowing a single moment of it to slip away without our being in the midst of it all.  

At day's end, it will be a front row seat for Millie and me to watch the spectacular sunsets being offered now, free for the taking. And what is that front seat, you may ask?  Well, a picture is worth a thousand words they say, so here goes...  

It's the same ole log on which we sat earlier to listen to the whippoorwills' calls, and later on, to the sweet songs of the summer tanager.  Yesterday, a late evening breeze blew across my face and ruffled my hair as we sat watching the spectacle of the setting sun.  My cup truly did runneth over...

  There was a visitor to the garden yesterday, and oh, what a beauty it was.  Even though I have already ripped out and cut back most of summer's flowers, I was happy that it found something satisfactory upon which to dine.  

Thoreau definitely had the right idea when he went to the woods to live "to learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived..."  

I sketched and painted in watercolors this young naturalist, thus adding another entry in the Journal that seems to go on forever.  He seems to be quite young here, but then he would for he died a young man.  He is well-dressed here even though he scorned wearing fine clothing.  Of course, he would not be wearing such a fine suit there at water's edge on Walden Pond.  

Hubby mentioned the other day that he needed to move the old dead log.  I will admit to cringing a bit, but I know it needs doing.  Maybe he will leave a piece of it of just the right height for my sitting.  

I know this old hill is a place I have photographed before...but even now I must do it again and again.  Each picture seems different in one way or another from all the others.  It is a place that I love.  

"The way I'd like to go on living in this world wouldn't hurt anything.  I'd just go on walking uphill and downhill, looking around, and so what if half the time I don't know what for ~"

                             ~Mary Oliver

Autumn Equinox...

 

Before yesterday, it had been many days since there had been a descent one for getting outside to work in the gardens.  Eighty degrees versus 97 degrees is a mighty big change, and we loved it.  And even more wonderful is that it happened on the Autumn Equinox.  

It was a fabulous, oh-so-much-cooler, walk over the hill.  There was a cow with a new-born calf, a good distance away, and wild turkeys in the path we walk.  I was happy that Millie didn't frighten them away. 

Migration really is in full swing. here. Yesterday, there was a big gathering of Scissor-Tailed Flycatchers on the power lines. I knew something was up, so I Googled them and  read that they fly through Texas to Mexico and Central America, sometimes in great numbers, where they spend the winter.  I am sure our long-tails are somewhere today between here and Texas.  

A few late hummingbird stragglers are still hanging out here ~ perhaps trying to fatten up a bit more before making their long journey.  After having pulled out all the old zinnias, I saw one little hummer hovering over the old patch.  I am sorry little bird!  

Many of my favorite books are children's books.  Along about now every year, I get the notion to reread one of my favorites which has a lot to do with migration.  My fifth graders loved "My Side of the Mountain," by Jean Craighead George.  It's the first book in a trilogy.  The third book, "Frightful's Mountains" really gets into migration.  

Navajo Harvest Rug and the Last Bale 2022...

 

I missed posting my favorite full moon of the year, September's Harvest Moon, but it still seems appropriate here with "The Last Bale."  It was glorious!  (And so was Jupiter!)

And, for the journal there is my own sketched version of a Navajo Harvest Rug done in watercolors.

From the Web, of course.  And, worth every penny of $2500, don't you think?  (But not in my budget!)

Field Notes:

Date: September 20, 2022

Time:  3:19 P.M.

Temperature: 97 degrees F.

Event:  The last bale of the season was successfully rolled and wrapped.  

Significance:  The cattle are assured of ample feed for the winter.

We are thankful!

On another note, there are lots of rolls out there to be hauled to the hay lots, but that's not in my job description.  :~)  

As for me, I am looking forward to some cooler weather so I can get the gardens, both old and new, ready for winter.  And there's the brick paver project that got put on hold last year when I broke my wrist.  I feel ready for it now and have decided to put the pavers down in the Shanty Garden where I want to expand the seating area.  

This week I did some sketching in the journal but haven't had time to do much painting.  One of my sketches that I love so much is of Omar, which I will share soon.  I wrote one of his quotes in the journal. 

"To all of us the thought of heaven is dear~

Why not be sure of it and make it here?

No doubt there is heaven yonder too,

But 'tis so far away~

and you are here.

~Omar

Until next time...

Mary

Pretties along a freshly mown trail, and more journal pages...

 

Now 151 walks

Butterfly Weed

Passion Flower

I loved Hannah Hauxwell's story so much ~ imagine that she showed up here in watercolor.  I have a long waiting list for those who want to be here.  :~)  Ha Ha!

Hannah's book is one that  I am keeping on my shelves ~ Hannah Hauxwell with Barry Cockcroft.  Also included in my copy are Seasons of My Life and Daughter of the Dales.  

"It's my favorite place, here...down the new road through the iron gate.  I stand here and watch the seasons come and go.  At night the moonlight plays on Hunder Beck...and the waters sing a song to me...

I know this place will always be loyal to me.  If I have nothing in my pocket I will always have this.  They cannot take it away from me.  It's mine, mine for the taking, and always will be...even when I'm no longer here.  Of course, I suppose I shall have to leave here...sooner rather than later I imagine.  It will not be an easy thing to do.

But in years to come if you see a ghost walking here you can be sure it will be me."

                                                                              ~Hannah Hauxwell

For those of you who wondered, Millie's ear does not always flop forward.  Both ears tend to be up more in colder weather, so I was surprised to see this happening already.  I  think she may be wanting a new profile picture with both ears up.  I love her ears both ways, and she doesn't seem to mind if I wear one or two side ponies.  :~)

A dog is so often the answer - 

when you're lonely and need company,

or when you're tired of company and need lonely.

~Robert Brault