under a common moon

Mr. Right said, come out here and look at the moon.  Okay,  but I was just out there not 10 minutes ago.

The night was pitch black, a bracing cold that sent a chill right to my bones.  Okay, not “Vermont” cold, but very cold for Washingtonians.

orange-moonOh, that moon.  Sort of took my breath away.  Bathed in a wash of orange color.  Huge and round and gorgeous.  Yes, I am more of a night owl admirer than I am a morning sunrise girl.

Years ago, when Mr. Right would be gone away for weeks at a time during the military, sometimes, I would step outside of our military housing (just so you know,  it’s so quiet outside a house with two little boys inside) just on the porch.  I would look up at the sky and take a deep breath and know we were sharing the same moon.  No matter where he was in the world, we were under the same common moon.

I felt somehow better and would go back in for another round of being a mom (and dad), home school teacher, referee, cook, laundry lady, story time lady …. and on the list went.

I can’t seem to get a handle on balance and calm lately.  I am trying every trick in the book to push the blues back and keep on a steady keel.

When I stepped out and looked at that gorgeous moon, I sort of felt this rush of people who were out there under the same moon.  It helps me to remember there are other humans dealing with the exact same things I am.

There is  a group of people who are worried and fretting about healing and wellness.  There is a group of people out there who have lost friends and loved ones & are grieving.  There are a passel of folks out there, under the common moon, who are trying to center themselves and find solid ground. Trying to find happiness and purpose and direction.

All of a sudden, I don’t feel so alone.

Finding and celebrating people who have chosen to heal naturally and who are thriving. People out there who have to figure out how to keep taking daily medicine every single day. People who don’t think I am crazy for studying and researching an hour a day.

I tell myself and smile, there is a big group of people who are quietly not judging me.  Quietly cheering me on and lifting up my spirit.

I felt like seeking out other pet owners who are trying to learn how to live gracefully with an aging pet.

In a good way, I felt humbled and happy to step into the corner of people who were trying to regroup and renew their faith in their choices and people they surround themselves with.

When you are looking up, you can’t really see the color, nor age, nor political choice of the person next to you.   Big huge announcement, no one (with any intelligence whatsoever) cares.  

What we do care about are that the people we stand with are kind, considerate, thoughtful, silly, educated, giving and just plain nice to be with.

No one, I repeat, no one wants to stand under the same moon with a person who acts like  a worm.

I haven’t felt much like writing.

Thanks for waiting and checking back.  I have been wondering, trying to find my direction. Dipping my toes in crafts and books and being a home body.    No one wants to read dull, dreary, sad-faced writing. Heck, this writer doesn’t want to write dull and dreary lines.

Some of the best days lately have been texting, talking, emailing,  sending letters to my boys and girls.  All four kids are over 30 years old.    Ha, even when I am 90 years old, they will still be my boys & girls.  70 something men & women, who will have even more developed senses of humor and intelligence and good manners.  Even though they live many states away, we are under a common moon.

My sister-in-law and friends live thousands of miles away, we are under a common moon.

Mr. Right has to work late, this time of year, we are under a common moon.

You will find me there.  Standing under the moon tonight, my beautiful sweet dog next to me…. throwing good wishes up and catching all the goodness that is thrown my way.

In this together, friends, under a common moon.

Chat soon, promise.

moon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a good luck poke

The pincushion tomato was most likely introduced during the Victorian Era.  Folklore tomato-pin-cushionteaches us, that by placing a tomato on the mantel of a new house guaranteed prosperity and repelled evil spirits.  If tomatoes were out of season, families improvised by using a round ball of red fabric filled with sand or sawdust.  The good-luck symbol also served a practical purpose – a place to store pins.

20170102_213250-1_resizedI made this lavender pincushion in 1972.  I was 10 years old and this was my first project in my sewing 4H club. I am not sure the light purple blob has any good luck or not.  I can say, with certainly, it has kept all evil spirits away from my sewing basket for more than 40 years.

In theory it is a sweet idea, however, it doesn’t work. The pins don’t stay pushed in.   The material is double-knit, the filling feels like cotton batting, and it doesn’t have any weight to speak of. I made it using a canning jar lid and ring.

A pin cushion that doesn’t work, isn’t very useful.  However, I have kept it all these years because it makes me smile to remember the beginning.  It doesn’t work, but for some reason, it whet my appetite for more to come.

You all remember my 2017 goal of making a pin cushion for every sweet person I need a gift for?       https://sundayschildfullofgrace.wordpress.com/2016/12/07/poke/

You thought I was kidding?  No, not kidding.  I am on a mission to make  at least 12 pincushions this year.  Let me be clear:  pincushions that are equally pretty & useful. While I do wish for them to be keepsakes (and full of good luck), I honestly don’t want them20170102_213305_resized stuck in the bottom of someone’s sewing basket never to see the light of day.  It is my hope that the cushions will be poked over and over and over again.  I hope they are loved and used and become worn with happy use.

First pin cushion of 2017 is finished!!!!  She also comes with her own designer pins.

I made several pins last night.  I wanted to include something unique or pretty or charming to poke into each cushion. Some look like dragonflies, some have hearts, a few have stars, while the rest are glass stacked beads.

My first pin cushion this year,  is for a retirement gift.  The recipient is a crafter and does lovely work with beads.  I thought it might be the perfect small gift to offer up as a celebration.  I wanted to make something special.

I ask you, who among us wouldn’t want to receive a hand stitched cushion with our initial highlighted?

In addition to using buttons from my button jar, I stitched good karma, love, prayers, kindness and oodles of good luck into this piece.  I am sending it off into the world stuffed with pure goodness (also known in some circles as crushed walnut shells). I also included a loop for her scissors to be tied with a ribbon.

May this new year be a time of bathing others in small gifts of thoughtfulness.

20170103_144545-1_resized-1

In this together, friends.

We could all use a little poke to remind us to be more thoughtful.