Monday, February 14, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
It's a balmy fifty-five degrees outside my family's home in Maryland. The thick blanket of snow, that has covered the ground since Christmas, is lifting into the air and sinking into the soil. I woke up to mist so thick the whole world became a white haze. I decided to take a walk with the old beagle dog. Putting on rubber boots, coat and shawl, we tramped off through the woods together.
Our feet splashed through frozen slush, and from time to time, patches of earth at the base of a tree, would reveal a hint of green moss or ivy which outlasted the snow's icy shroud. When we reached the bay the sun was shining bright. The mist cleared. I took a seat on top of an old wooden pick nick table, warmed in the afternoon sun. I was so flushed from the briskness of our walk that I felt compelled to take off my coat and wool sweater. Then through some strange impulse, I took off my boots and socks too.
No one was in sight except for the good old dog. I could see for miles down the shoreline. So, with the Chesapeake bay before me and the snowy white world behind, I did a series of sun salutations, right on the pick nick table. There is nothing more delightful than to move and breathe in the open air. I kept my eyes wide open through the postures breathing in the sights of the world. The steel gray water and wispy clouds, snowy earth and gray tree trunks turned upside down as I stretched in the sunshine. And before I knew it I was turning pirouettes on the wooden table top. At last, it was time to come back down to earth. I put on my coat and shoes, whistled for the beagle and trudged my way back to realty, but with a light heart and a fully nourished spirit.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
I'm getting my things packed and ready. After a nice long break I'm heading off to work again. I expect I will be away for four months. I'm in the thick of weeding through my clothes and I have built up a whole big pile of mending and alterations. I've been wearing this vintage Lee skirt around with its frayed edge flying in the breeze. I decide it's time to do justice to its cuteness and finish it properly.
Frequently, when I do alterations for myself I do it down and dirty... "It's just for me, it dosent need to be perfect. Who else is going to know that I cut corners? It will be faster this way," I tell my self. Then I spend twice as long fussing with corrections that would not have been necessary if I had just taken the time to go through the right steps. Inspired by the craftsmanship of my vintage clothes I vow to give myself the pleasure of finishing my own things right.