Yo Yo GMa

I spent part of this afternoon mending yo yos in a quilt top my Grandmother made. This was my Dad's mother. I had only met her twice before she passed away. One of my memories of her though is connected with this quilt. I can remember cutting circles of cloth with her and placing them in a glass mayonaise jar. Once the jar was full I'd take out a circle, fold over the edge and begin a gather stitch. A pull of the thread and as if by magic the yo yo was made. As I stitched today and tightened that thread I pulled back memories that aren't always at the front of my mind, but they are there, and can be drawn from the past with just a simple needle and thread.

Tangled

When the word Tangle was mentioned the first thing that came to mind was this enamel bowl where I keep my yarn scraps. Yarn scraps, you ask? Yes, yarn scraps. Some two inches, some a couple of feet. If it's left over from a project I'm going to stuff it into this bowl. What makes us keep things? We all know that it can get out of hand. But do you know anyone that doesn't keep something? Maybe its our inner squirrel planning for the day we may need just that right piece of yarn. Secreting it away to stave off a future shortfall. Is it instinctual, this need to nest and plan for just in case?

I know one thing. It is very liberating when I can bring myself to release little stashes of something I didn't really need to keep. Rubber bands,rusty paperclips,salt from take out dinners. I guess they kind of weigh on me. Because I've kept them, I've got an obligation to use them. I'm all for upcycled and recycled,repurpose and reuse but I also believe that if I can let somethings go I make room for something different and fresh to inspire me. So, take a good look at this image of my tangle of yarn scraps. I'm setting them out in the garden tonight for the birds and squirrels to do what they do best. Put them to use.

Scissors

Does your mother do this to you? "You don't want these old things do you?" "I'm going to just give these away." "You didn't know I had those?" Mine does and did and now I've got a new collection started. Black handled scissors. Heck, one of them is even mine from high school home ec. Did you grow up with these sewing work horses. Sturdy and sharp, pratically indestructable. They do however age, just like the rest of us. Not quite as sharp as they used to be and a little loose in the joints. They rattle a bit when shaken and the black is going silver. Its hard to get rid of something that still has use. Even if all it does is serve to remind you of that first pattern you cut out or aided in Barbies first haircut. They don't take up that much room and serve as time travel aids ever time I see them.

Back to Nature

I not only got back to nature, I got right down there in it. It seems like a really good idea at the time. It was cool. I had yard clothes on so it didn't matter that I was soaking wet when I got up. I was one with mother earth. The birds sang and the world was reflected in each dew drop. Then I got home.... My arms and chest are covered with little itchy bites. While I was communing with nature, lying on my belly some wee beesties were feasting on my vulnerable soft bits. The lesson? I have no idea because I'd do it again in a heart beat.

Farm Hands

A couple of weeks from now my father will celebrate his 80th birthday and he's still growing strong. Thanks to Dad I have a love of gardens and an appreciation for all things home grown. Not only does Dad share his bounty with family but the people I work with and friends get to enjoy fresh tomatos and peaches,cabbage and just about anything else that he grows. Thanks Dad.