Dreams Lived

 Years ago, when four little sillies lived in my home, the chill of autumn would bring a shudder to my spirit.  I would foresee a season of colds and bronchitis and ear infections and asthma flares.  When the storm windows were shut in the northern Illinois home that I lived in then, it surely signaled the time of blizzard watches and shoveling your way to anywhere.  It certainly was a time of hibernation, self imposed or other, just due to the inordinate difficulty of getting most places with the anxiety of exposing or being exposed to, a myriad of germies.  Paranoid?  Indeed.  Housing two very afflicted asthmatics, where every cold precipitates life threatening situations, makes you that way.

But the seasons, they do change, and, spring, when it finally arrived in the northern climes, was heralded and applauded.

Sadly, that was how I viewed the fall season for many, many years.

But no more.

The chillens have moved on.  I've moved farther south.  The asthmatics outgrew their affliction and I know view the world in the autumnal glow as the anthem of my Third Act of Life.


(So that you do not feel empathy toward my children for their Autumnally Afflicted mother, be assured that  I kept my sighing and whining far from their tiny ears.  My husband got to hear it aplenty in the privacy of our boudoir, but he would never let me tarry their long.  His ebullient attitude buoyed us both up on those dark, cold, virus ridden days.  I would wear a cheery mask, extolling the beauty of the season while inside I wept.)

I do not say these things to cause sadness upon my young mama friends.  I share this as an encouragement.  I speak of these things joyfully, reminding you that in the thick of mommying, there is the Golden Season.  There is the time when they do not need you, in the day to day practical sense, anymore  There is a time when the coming of winter enfolds you into a season of inner peace, not isolation.  There is a time where you are not bound by the clock, calendar or dinner bell.  There is a time, before you have a foot in the grave, that you get to dance on it a bit.

And thus was today.

Hubby and I had coincidentally scheduled doctor appointments on the same day but hours apart.  Since we live two weeks from anywhere, when we travel to our appointments, we generally utilize our errand running and fetching to take advantage of the gas saving opportunity.  Today, we were able to finish up his appointment and take in a tasty lunch at Scholar's Inn Bakehouse http://www.scholarsinn.com/bakehouse.html (the Panera for retired folks; there were only one or two there that had no silver in their hair; and hits for the 70's appeased us boomers...) near both of our different doctors.  And you know, there is a Target right behind it, right?  So, right in the middle of the week, with no list or purchasing needs, we merely spoofed around, picking up things here and there as we saw a need.
We had plenty of other retail stops that we could have spoofed on with, but the day was calling us and we had a good 90 minutes to waste well.

That is another fabu thing about this thing called the Golden Season - you don't need much to entertain you.  You have a house full, garage full, cottage full, of things.  You know that your days of being a fashion maven are over and quite frankly, you just don't care about those things anymore.  Thank God.  Not that we wander dishelveledly, we just don't feel the need to compete anymore.  Ahhh...What a relief. 


So as we drifted through the back streets of Bloomington, looking for entertainment, Hubby remembered a park that we needed to visit.  Thanks to our friend, Android, we found it with no problem.  Since we have been in the Fancy Free mode for some time, we always travel with a quilt and folding chairs for such a non event as today.
Hubby grabbed the quilt and I grabbed my knitting and sketch pad and off we were to find the perfect spot for our spontaneous big fun.

The park was full of people wanting to grab the last of the season's color and temperatures and lots of big fun was going on with many people.  We found senior citizens from a nursing home on the swings, favored dogs getting brisk runs and walks.  We found students parked under trees with their textbooks and sketchbooks.  We heard small children taking advantage of the play equipment.  We listened to the squeals of joy that playgrounds bring and the quiet laughter of lovers on a memorable afternoon.  Yet we created our own little bit of memorabilia just by enjoying the day.

It was forty years ago this month that I began preparing for my wedding day.  This kind of weather reminds me of  traveling to department stores to register for things, going to fittings for my dress, vanilla candles, just then coming into vogue and the anticipation of 'our' new life.

And here we were today.  Perched on a gentle slope, far away from where we started, geographically and metaphorically, basking in the sun and friendly breeze, thanking God for the trip.
Thanks to our friend, Android, we were able to listen to the sounds of that fall, forty years ago:  Cat Stevens, Morning has Broken, Moody Blues, For My Lady, the Doobie Brothers, Listen to the Music.  I knitted; he napped, we both reminisced and it was good for our spirit, our bodies and our souls.

Take heart, my dear young mamas - your day is coming soon, sooner than you think.  Plan now for the Golden Season in your heart and embrace your spot now.  Live it well and celebrate when it is done well for a heart full of peace at the completion of it.

And rest in it well.....

The Basement Remodel Begins!

 Quite a few years ago, we had a very wet winter here in Southern Indiana....
Rain pelted and saturated the land and the water table around here had just had enough.
Most of us were hard pressed to win the battle against the simple water molecule.
But then there were the others that just seemed to have forgotten to plug in the sump pump after using the outlet.  That shall always be a disputed conversation...

However.

Since that long ago day(night) when dripping wet carpet was hauled outside, damaged boxes of memories were pitched and tossed, Hubby and I have been wondering what to do now with a considerable amount of square footage known as our basement.

 Life has kept us busy enough to not get too quick to fix the problem.  We just warned people, 'DO NOT GO INTO THE BASEMENT!' with a fervant, passioned, commanding voice.  I winced at Baby Girl's wedding when the young man that played accoustic guitar went looking for a private place to tune up and practice.  Sending him into 'the pit' was most uncomfortable for me.  I wanted to explain the previous two years of my life as to why this horribly neglectful homeowner was not more efficient in straightening up the mess that was down there.  I came to my senses by his need to quiet his spirit before performing. Not really needing to hear my story, I left him alone in the quiet of the basement.  That was one thing that it was good for; quiet.  No one wanted to be there unless fetching some useful tool.

 Then, this past Thanksgiving, Eldest Son and Lovely Wife announced their pregnancy.
Quick to respond in practical, hospitable ways, I immediately began to remodel the basement in my mind.
Call it a primitive call to provide shelter for my proliferating progeny, I felt an urgent need o expand our living spaces.  Now.
Lovely Wife's sister became engaged the same weekend as The Wonderful Announcement, and I began to figure on sleeping spaces for our and LW's family's homes at holiday times.  Certainly, a teeny baby can be comfy about anywhere, but this Grammy/Nana/Mimi wanted to get it taken care of spit-spot.

 We have since employed a most amiable young man and his assistant from far away Bloomington [www.dtdaleyconst.com] to take care of this long overdue project.

 He has come up with some exciting, creative applications to our long neglected space.  And we are thrilled.
I'm eager to share the progress with anyone that will listen.  I'm finding it hard to sleep as I plan and plot on the finished product called  A Spot for Company.
You know what that means, right?
It means you need to come and visit when the finale of the Basement Makeover takes place!
And since the upstairs is getting an update that involves lots of white paint, you might want to bring your own paintbrush and work clothes.
Miss Dixie can't be the only helper.
She's done enough already, herding the contractors and annoying them beyond all reason.

So join me here as we get this place in order!

Construction progress...
LOVE IT!!!!

Knew Knitting Knews:

 It has been nigh onto forty years since I last held knitting needles.


The math of it just confounded me.  I was young and impatient with the process.  I probably was also discouraged with my mother's constant laughter at her own joke each time she called me Madame Defarge and screamed out, 'Guillotine!"(en.wikipedia.org/wiki/madame_defarge) as my endless scarf progressed. 
Whatever the reason, I parked my needles and used them throughout the years to turn collars and other sewing needs these past four decades.

Then the Knitting Kneeds began again.  After spending nearly a month with Eldest/Admin and her Amazing Needles, I rethought the reasons why knitting was my only crafting holdout.
The deal was sealed after E/A and I spent several hours in the most pleasant knitting shop ever.inayarnbasket.com  E/A has several knitting projects going on and I was along for the ride.  I found myself mesmerized by the selection, the feel, the colors of the myriads of yarn skeins available for about any pattern known to man.  Books of all types. Accessories to all yarn crafts.  And the nicest staff ever.  While E/A processed and selected and perused, I got caught up in the friendly ambiance of the place.  And did I mention how busy this tiny place was?  A grand yarn sale was going on and it appeared that the whole of Bloomington Indiana was privy to it. A grand cross section of the population appeared to all be able to knit except me.


About the time I was feeling a bit left out from all this yarn fun, two things happened:

1. I found Elizabeth Zimmermann's book soulemama.com/soulemama/2010/02/the-zimmermann-year-baby-surprise-jacket.html and was captivated.  Elizabeth subscribes to the Deb Cory School of Creating.  Very loose, very casual very non daunting.  Though her book is not a how to, per se, it gives excellent impetus to go forth boldly with the process.  Thank you Elizabeth.
2. I found these needles.  Yes.  Wood.  Shiny.  Well shaped.  Feel grand in the hand.  Had to have them.

Thus begins my new adventure in knitting.

Traveling with Miss Viv the other day, she kept watching Mimi as she produced yet another granny square whilst entertaining her in the back seat.  She closed her book and asked, politely, if she could have my yarn and hook.  Being an amiable Grammy, I acquiesced.  She immediately started imitating my movements and acted quite professional for a not nearly two year old.  I was mesmerized by her confident movements and the fun that she had just playing with yarn and hook.  And that is exactly the attitude I shall adopt in my new knitting adventure.  I shall follow Elizabeth's guidance and Vivien's attitude.  I shall overcome Knitting Fear and go forth.  

With a little help from my friends.....

Happy Anniversary to Me!

On December 16, 1972, at high noon, I evolved from Debbie Murphy, newly 19 and full of myself, to the bride of Patrick Joseph Cory.
We had been sweethearts for nearly three years, meeting on a blind date of sorts.
After the first date on February 14th, we knew, without a doubt, that we were destined for each other.
The next week, Pat 'gave' me his class ring, which he owned for a full four days, asked me to prom and while he was getting such good answers, asked me to marry him.
We continued on in our relationship like that was a definite plan.
I never thought otherwise.
I could see no other future without Pat in it.
Thirty seven years later, I still feel the same way.
Only more so.
Because he knows me better than anyone, he knows it is best to just let me pick out my gifts for special occasion.
He's given me some amazing gifts but as we aged, he thought it better for me to be the selector.
Last night, I was invited to a jewelry showing. Two Bloomington jewelry crafters were able to bring their incredibly simple yet wonderful wares to Mitchell.
I related to the design immediately.
If I was a jewelry designer, these lovely pieces would be what I would produce.
So I thank Tizo Design's Laura and Rhonda for sharing their craft and allowing My Hubby to give me a wonderful, wonderful gift this year....

Check out their site at tizo.biz