Pleasure Twice Felt

With its holidays and family gatherings, November seems like the shortest month of the year. We will spend Thanksgiving with my niece in Connecticut where family and friends gather and fill her house to the brim, a tradition she began when she and her husband moved into their new home. In January, a new family member will be born – the next generation to enjoy this joyful tradition.

Of course, then there is the big gear up for Christmas which follows and, in the case of commercialism, bumps heads with November’s (and sometimes October’s) holidays. The push is on for shopping, shopping, shopping – buy, buy, buy. My eyes narrow and I fast forward through commercials touting the latest gadget you must have or excessive spending you can ill afford. In light of the extreme weather and devastation along the east coast, it seems crass to be spending money on ‘things’ that perhaps no one needs just to give an expected gift.

Every year I fill seven stockings (all for adults who enjoy this most childlike pleasure of Christmas morning) so I will go out in search of little treasures to stuff inside them. This year, I will take a page from the practical stockings of years past and add some traditional goodies like oranges and fresh baked cookies.

Not being a shopper, per se, especially when pushed by aggressive advertising, I want to discover secret wishes or make something special for someone I care about. I am not always successful in this goal but when I am, the pleasure multiplies and draws me into its circle. Whether knit, stitched, baked or painted, I am the recipient as much as they are.

Giving is a pleasure twice earned when I spend my time rather than mindless dollars. I vow to enjoy this holiday season like I have no other…mindfully, giving thanks for blessings, prayers for the suffering and ill and savor gentleness within my household.

A Bit of Sun Among the Raindrops

Today has been blessedly sunny. Indian summer, perhaps. It seems like it has been raining forever and more is forecast for the weekend. I couldn't resist the temptation of the unexpected warmth and stayed home from work today to get started on readying the house for winter.  I made good headway but I am losing steam.  Perhaps a glass of wine and a comfy chair on the deck will do the trick.  I imagine it is time to stop anyway.

The lake below is ringed with vibrant color.  The lowering sun points out the brightest branches and shines its spotlight on them while allowing the deeper greens to fade into the shade. Reflections on the still water double the pleasure. I am entranced by the pockets of color and I pull my feet up under me to settle in and enjoy the view.

With all our travels this summer, the days have sped by. We have had a good time but now I feel like it is my time to hunker down and take care of the things I have neglected. Appointments are made, some of the broken items are getting repaired. Paperwork is sorted and (mostly) filed or shredded. I am amazed at how much I can accumulate in a few months!  Even though I have simplified my paper handling, so much still comes in.  Even email needs tamed.  Once solicited e-newsletters and postings have been unsubscribed.  My interests have changed and some have expanded in new directions.

I have been focusing on my book research in the past few weeks.  Most of my writing has been with pen in hand lately which is great for short jottings. Impressions and ideas, scenes and phrases for the novel flow unrestrained and I know I'd forget them if they weren't written down.  My little notebook travels with me - I never know when something will set me off on a path.  One word can do it. I am eager to see where it will take me.

October...ALREADY?

My focus this summer has been a creative one.  It started with a long weekend on the Cape painting at a cozy harbor in Truro. Family visits over the Fourth of July were sun-filled and blissful on the lake and at the beach.  A trip to the Adirondacks in August left us nature-saturated and rested.  We finished it off with long days under the sun on East Beach in Charlestown, RI and threw in a trip last weekend to Buffalo to see family and go to Bob's 50th high school reunion.

Hickory Hills July 4th Boat Parade

Needless to say, time flew.

When there is a lot going on, I have to make harder choices on what to do with the rest of the time. This summer, I spent my writing time working on my journal which has evolved into an art/memoir kind of book.  I love how it has expanded over this year and combines sketches, photos, watercolor and words.


Our new long-haired dachshund, Mario, loves adventure and riding in the convertible.  His limit is about 55 miles an hour and then he slides back along the window.  We have to keep a firm hand on his leash or I bet he would try to climb right out onto the hood for a better view.
Water is his other passion and will swim and explore, jumping from rock to rock, until he is shivering and must be bodily removed and wrapped in a towel (for which he is grateful until he warms up and is ready for another go at it).

The weather has been wonderful - summery hot with nice breezes.  Now it is autumn and the leaves are building wattage towards brilliant color.  Pumpkins and mums grace front porches.  The air is crisp and I need to go to the Price's barn in town and see if the first batch of cider is ready.  I will look for the table by the road with the jugs on it and put my money in the Cool Whip container with the rock on top.  Then I will know it is autumn for sure.

Keeping the Mundane Out of My Ballet

For awhile now, I have been noticing the routine of my actions.  Getting up, getting ready for work - the patterns of my routines are mostly an unconscious ballet of concise motion.  On weekends, the pattern is more fractured.  Not burdened by the need to get out the door at a specific time, a certain relaxation of habitual motion is nice.

I have a desire to change all that.  I don't know why I am chomping at the bit to stir things up.  Perhaps it is all part and parcel to my edit and purge sweep to narrow the burden of stuff' to a pleasurable level.  'Simplify, simplify, simplify' - Thoreau. 

I was going through several of my craft drawers and rather than editing, I found myself reminiscing (must be that autumn thing).  Running my hand over needlepoint stitched many moons ago, discovering cards of antique buttons collected in a former life and treasures wrought with sweet memories I am loathe to discard tugged at my melancholy heart. 

It seems that I want freshness in my life without letting go of the comforts which include some of the usual habits.  Like a vase of fresh flowers from the garden's late season offerings, I crave a blend of old and new, comfort and adventure.

Autumn Reflections

I was just visiting Diana Baur at a certain simplicity as her inn's season is winding down and autumn visits the Piedmont in its wake.  She is looking at her seven years' history there and how different aspects of her life have prepared her for the challenges of a move to Italy and much different life than any she'd experienced before.

Frye Measure Mill, New Hampshire

As I wrote on her blog, I, too, am in a reflective mode but also one of underlying, fierce activity of the mind.  I have so much I want to do - so much to discover and savor!  As autumn in New England blooms with brilliant reds, oranges and yellows, it also signals the time when the same leaves I now enjoy on the hillsides will glide onto the ground in gentle waves and the scenery will change to something more austere.  The coming cold is not to my liking but I adapt.  I mean, frankly, in today's world, going from house to warm car to work and back again on the weekdays is not a hardship.  When the snow drifts down and builds on the tree branches in a fresh fluffy coat, I am mesmerized and love the journey.

My steps have brought me back to New England after a 30 year absence when I raised my family in Ohio and I am reveling in the sheer beauty of this area and all it has to offer.  While there are other places I would love to explore, I am thankful to be amongst such natural beauty every day.

Still, I have a few more dreams up my sleeve and, particularly at this time of year, they rise again just as summer wanes and winter's solitude is on the horizon. Time for reflection in front of a roaring fire instead of on a beach.  Time for brushing the sand off my path and seeing where it has meandered to get me where I am today. 

So far, so good.  A few bumps and bruises when I lost my footing but, overall, not a very rocky path.  I hope the road in front of me is rather smooth because I'd like that for awhile.  It will be what it will be, though, and I will adapt.  I always do.

Monadnock Art Tour 16

October is the perfect time to head up into New Hampshire and wander the backroads from studio to studio.  There is a leafy smell in the air that enchants and breathtaking color to amaze us.  Chris and I made our annual trek to the Dublin/Peterborough area to tour what we could of the 50 art studios tucked into the foothills of Mt. Monadnock.

Jane Howard in her studio

We packed a lunch of Tuscan pasta, sandwiches and fruit so we could make the most of our day and explore as much as we wanted to.  A quick trip to the Price's for fresh cider and we were on our way.  We started at Jane Howard's studio, eager to see how she had grown in the past year and what new things she was trying.  She was working on a self-portrait and had completed a wonderful woman knitting (you can see it next to the window in this photo).  Her architectural beach scenes have a unique quality which I love.  My favorites, though, are the painted collage still lifes like one above the window.  They tell a detailed story of varied interests which draw you in to speculate about the person who collected these items and why they are of importance.  The nice thing is that you can vary the story in your mind each time you look at the painting.  I love that about them.

We visited quite a few studios some of which were in old homes built in the late 1700s and mid-1800s.  Low beamed ceilings and wide planked floors complemented the timeless art on view.  Others had bright, light-filled studios with cans and cans of brushes and paint stained easels.  Having just bought a wide, flat blending brush, I know the obsession for good working tools.

The day was inspirational and the scenery exquisite, even if the foliage hasn't peaked yet.  All the more to enjoy in the weeks to come!

South End Artists

Chris and I went into Boston for the weekend to walk the South End to see the art on display in the studios there.  After miles of walking and stimuli that filled our brains with color and images, we left sated and totally pooped.  Some would have to wait until next year to be discovered by the two of us.

It is so interesting to see what other artists create.  The buildings were filled with studios, sometimes 20 or more on each floor.  Having never painted in such an environment, I don't know if it would be stimulating or intimidating.  While some artists were at the beginning of their learning curve, others were masters.  All seemed highly involved with their craft.  Their studios were more than work areas for them.  They were places to gather and talk as well as create.  With some, you could see the influences of great artists almost as if they were trying on another person's coat to check the fit.  Several were disturbing, having delved, perhaps, into realms of their minds where issues refused to be worked out.  While I can appreciate and understand the depths of their art, I prefer to skirt the pathos in favor of lightness.

Now that the cool days are rushing in, the city has a new lift to its spirits.  Color enters the stage at every turn. Bittersweet wreaths and pots of garden mums grace doorways.  Festivals fill the streets as we all clamor for one more celebration.  As the leaves rustle along the cobblestones before landing in a huddle in a corner, we marvel at the pleasures of a city stroll.