Friday, December 4, 2009

Memory Lane

Who got my email address and is selling it????
The crazy thing is....it is the email address I use the least...for resumes and business type emails. I must have made the mistake of using it for something that I bought on line and now I am getting all these "offers" for things I don't need and didn't ask for. And because they are not trying to sell me Canadian drugs or Viagra, they are not going into the SPAM box.

I was going to title this GOOD MORNING, until I made the mistake of opening my email...just to see. I thought I might try and write a bit of something every day...Do I want to put that kind of pressure on myself, or do I want to attempt that kind of discipline? My journaling has always been done as inspiration struck me. I have never been one to plot out a design and execute it...I am much more stream of consciousness in my writing and in my art.
My mother the fabric artist, is one who plans down to the last detail before even making her first cut into fabric - at least that is what it seems with her quilts. I don't remember how she planned her weavings...probably similarly. Wish I was more attentive when she was weaving. I don't have much memory of seeing her work on her looms even though they were always a part of our household. One of my favorite memories is when the loom came into the living room while we were living in Lexington Mass, and she enlisted all the kids to pull the warp yarns tight.
I remember holding the yarns in a bundle in each hand (I was under 10 years old but don't remember how young) and leaning back and pulling with all my strength to make it tight as she turned the bar at the other end of the loom, winding the yarn onto it in straight, tight rows. I remember complaining the whole time.
How many of you grew up with a giant wood loom in your house? How cool. I never thought about it before, but when we lived in Lexington, the loom was down stair in the basement most of the time and I recall playing on it like a jungle gym. Then when we were helping her with the warp it was in our living room, in front of the big picture window, across from the fire place. Doesn't that sound divine?
I understand completely why she moved it upstairs. I always take my art supplies into the living room. I look forward to winter when we bring the table from the screened porch inside and I use it in the living room so I can do some of the big swaths of gluing and painting while hanging out with Hubby watching TV. And it may have been winter when she moved the loom upstairs. It was a concrete basement that ran the length of our ranch house which sat in the side of a small hill, so I am sure it was not toasty warm down there, thought I do remember it being kind of homey. My father had an office with a phone down there, the heater was there, the laundry was there. It was a whole other world. We must have had an attic too, because I don't remember much in the way of boxes and junk.

Well, thank you for coming down memory lane with me.
That was fun.
I must go to work now and make money. It is Friday and I plan to get down to serious Christmas decorating this weekend, including some outdoor lights - take advantage of the fact that snow has melted and the temps are still in the 40s.
Till later - Namaste.

PS - next time I will tell you about the LOOM ring I purchased at a flea market...cute silly story.

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