beauty that moves

erin, virginia beach, va.

Tonight I was going to write about chick peas and local flavors bursting all around us this time of year. Plans changed when I decided to check email first and noticed there was a submission form for my other site.  I've been thinking a lot this month about military spouses, wives in particular because of an On Point episode that aired on NPR early in August. The women who were on the show had not lost a spouse as of yet, but they had all planned, imagined, and mourned the wartime death of their husband. They explained that it was the only way to cope, to lessen the shock and the pain if it were to become their reality. Though each one of them knew there was no real way to prepare for that kind of truth, especially because none of them believed in the war their husbands were fighting.   

So when I opened this submission form from a woman named Erin living in Virginia Beach, Virginia, my heart sank, I sat staring at her words, tearful. I don't know Erin, I don't know how she found her way to Dinner with the President, if she reads this blog or not. I can only imagine how desperate she must feel, how scared, and how angry. I imagined Erin's voice as I read her words...

One Question : How can I tell my children that their father died for our love of oil...so that we can drive bigger trucks?
One Statement : My husband is leaving in October for yet another deployment to the "sandbox".  We have three young sons.  And he and I  are again talking about the what ifs and if this happens of a wartime
marriage.  God in heaven forbid I have to act on any of these plans, but if I do...please give me a good reason for his death.  A lust for oil and our citizens unchanging attitude toward our consumption is not a good reason. Please, Mr. President...bring our troops home NOW!
Name & Location : Erin, Virginia Beach, VA

And where does she turn? Who will listen, and who will respond?

The women that gathered on the radio to discuss life as a wartime wife were asked what they want from us, as citizens, as community members, strangers and friends. They asked that people just "do something." They talked about how in other times of war hardship and sacrifice were both felt on the home front. It's not the same now. People are able to pretty much go through their days not feeling this war. But they do. And they know that most people want it to end, they know this. They just aren't hearing it from us, they aren't seeing it in our willingness to sacrifice a few luxuries, to speak out and be heard. They said, "please, do something."

When I started Dinner with the President early in the summer, my plan was to not really do much except watch for the first month or so, I thought I'd dive into getting it out there on a larger scale after I got a feel for it all. Well, that month turned into two, with no excuses, it just did.

Thank you Erin for sharing your words and for giving me the motivation I needed to put the proper energy into this project, I hope you inspire others to share their thoughts as well. And I am so sorry your family is in the position to remind us all what we need to do, so terribly sorry.

sadhana

On this path no effort is wasted, no gain is ever reversed; even a little of this practice will shelter you from great sorrow. -Bhagavad Gita

In the midst of this busy, duty filled summer, sadhana  (practice) has sadly not been a top priority the last several weeks. I think it's pretty safe to say that the overwhelmed ride I was on felt more intense because of her absence. Thankfully she is back, I've reclaimed early mornings alone on the mat, not at the sewing machine, doing laundry or dishes, it can all wait. It's good to be home.

a good man

Drapery fabric from the 1960s rescued and renewed. A couple of weeks ago while at a show, Adam left to go to the store as I had forgotten the tissue paper at home that I normally stuff the bags with while they are on display. I was having a neurotic Virgo moment and couldn't imagine the day going on without properly fluffed bags (sad, I know). He so kindly offered to run out, no problem, find a store and pick some up. Oh thank you, thank you love.

He returned with the goods, and then told me I needed to go check out an estate sale up the road. They seemed to have a lot of fabric, thread, things like that. He'd take care of things at the craft booth, I should go, and take my time.

I need to interrupt here to say that all morning he was anxious to drive the 1 1/2 hours to the show, deposit me and my wares, and bid farewell quickly as he and Emily set off to hike a section of the AT that was close by. Maps were in hand, hydration bladders were filled, snacks were stocked, and the sky was sapphire blue. I delayed them at least an hour.

So off I went, and how grateful I was to have such a wise, supportive partner. I mean look at that fabric! A man that alerts his wife of a fabulous fabric stash, and insists she checks it out?! Oh yeah, a good man indeed.

And guess what? All five bags in the first photo came from one panel, there are seven more panels to work with... a very good man. Pop over to the shop for a closer look if you'd like, there are three in there. As always, thanks for stopping by, and I hope your day is full of fresh air and sunshine.

Update: Wow! Those went quickly, thank you so much. Maybe I'll get into those other seven panels sooner than later... ;)

on the mend

Did yesterdays post sneak up on you with no warning? It did for me too, so sorry about that. The ebb and flow of this thing called life you know...

It did provide some perspective. I could be better about prioritizing my time, my commitments, definitely. I have a hard time saying no to things. I also figured if this is destined to be the summer of salty air and sandy car floors, then we really should commemorate with a little something special.  Something to symbolize this happily beach filled summer, and let go of my longing for the mountain air and the trail beneath my feet. As I've said before, they'll both be there waiting, they always are. So, how about a new beach blanket?

I've been collecting these vintage towels for a while now (you cannot buy towels of this quality today), not entirely sure what I would do with them, but wanting it to be something special. I've also been inspired by this beauty. I think I'll combine the two, a quilt made of vintage towels for the beach. Sounds appropriate enough... I'll back it with a vintage sheet, and who knows what sort of random pattern will wind up appearing on the front. Hopefully it'll be ready in time for a few September beach trips, to picnic and search for invertebrates, gently turning over rocks in hopes of discovering various critters. That never gets old.

So, one crappy day that reached the boiling point will result in a new quilt for our beach travels, allowing for even more beautiful memories to be made. Not bad at all.

clearing the negative, making way for the postive

I don't really have anything to write today. Well, I suppose I have a lot to write but only about things of the complaining variety. Some days are just like this. Some weeks, months or seasons are like this. For me, what puts me past my edge very easily is being overly scheduled/committed. And I fully recognize that I don't fall into any resemblance of "normal" as far as my tolerance levels for such busy times. Well, with all the daydreaming and tulip tip-toeing I have to save room for. It's just who I am.

It's been a very duty-filled summer. New jobs and tighter budgets, both keeping us closer to home than we are used to. Not that we are world travelers (Adam is not a fan of airplanes, still waiting for jet-packs to be standard issue for all passengers), but we always find our way to the mountains several times each summer. Not this year, so far anyway. I'm just feeling very aware of that, with summer coming to a close, as I've felt fall in the air the last few days, forgive me for rambling, these are just the things I'm noticing.

Going to the beach around here has been great, and I will miss it should I ever be lucky enough to return to Vermont to live. The Green Mountains have been home in my mind for 15 years, since Adam first started taking me to where he grew up. I breathe differently there. We do get little hikes in around here, but it is different, usually being more of a trash pick-up community service experience than communing with nature. I suppose both are necessary.

                                                                                                     

While this summer feels like it has slipped away with much more doing than being (especially this last month), my girl reminds me to celebrate the free moments left of the season. A rope swing in the backyard following dinner outside, that'll work

It's 6:30 in the morning as I write this, Adam has already left for work. He just sent me a text message; "I love you. You are working so hard, good things will come of it, hang in there." How did he know all that was on my mind in this moment? He always knows.