We ended up with about a foot of snow from the storm on Tuesday. As far as winter storms go, it really wasn't so bad. The rest of the week was fairly cold and sunny with beautiful skies. Although the landscape is white and wintery, about half the snow has already melted.

My Christmas cactus has been providing me with constant blooms and cheer since the end of October. I do believe this is the last blossom--it almost made it to Easter!

On the day of the storm, daughter no.1's work was cancelled, so she got to stay home and bake gingerbread cats and bears from this recipe--oh, so yummy!

My 85 year old writing desk. This year I am using an A4 size planner for my daily diary. I've written in it faithfully since the day after Christmas. Each morning I write down my thoughts about the day before. Here is my entry for yesterday, March 18th:

A beautiful day weather wise-45° + bright sunshine. There is still a ton of snow, but its slowly shrinking, and I can see a tiny patch of grass on the Lunds' hill. I did the bills this morning, and then the girls, L and I went to the movies! We had free tickets to a private showing of the new Beauty & the Beast, complete with a breakfast buffet, courtesy of one of our doctors.. The movie was entertaining. L rated it 6 out of 10. However, if I was a little girl, it would have frightened me; the imagery was grotesque-- but not the Beast; he was beautiful. Liz sent me a lovely card. She is worried that I'm sad. Am I? I don't know. Just out-of-sorts I guess. We watched Poldark last night + Francis died. In the past few months I have felt surrounded by death. Perhaps it is always here, but I'm just now more aware of it.

The moon this month has been particularly lovely, large and luminous. Now it is waning, but I still step out into the cold to look for it every night.

The gentle lilac light of the eastern sky at sunset sometimes holds my attention longer than the dazzling brightness in the west.

Daughter no. 2 made delicious, fluffy bread on Friday. Warm out of the oven with a bit of butter, it tasted better than cake.

No matter how much I dislike March, its skies are gorgeous.

Last night I had to rip back 12 rows on my nap blanket because I was one stitch off in the pattern. One stitch weirdly skewed the whole thing. So. Frustrating. But, I am no less determined to finish the project despite the constant set-backs. In fact, I really wish I would have used different colors for it. I have in my mind a solid gray background with color shifting leaves in the "lake front" colorway (Knitpicks' Chroma yarn) so, a second afghan may be in my future. : )

I read a thought-provoking essay this week by Phyllis Theroux on the topic of 'home'. She included a quote by Dag Hammarskjold which caught my attention:  

"To have humility is to experience reality, not in relation to ourselves but in its sacred independence."  

This is an idea I have contemplated often over the years, especially in becoming Catholic, which was a bewildering decision to many of my friends, but thankfully, not to my family since they are used to me doing things they don't understand: abandoning my 'career', having 'too many kids', practicing extended breastfeeding, bed-sharing, home schooling, having too many animals, living in a too-little house, etc., etc. My friends, however,--several of whom I lost over this decision--could not come to terms with why I would enter into a religious tradition historically steeped in scandal and which included some things I did not fully comprehend or embrace. The priest who gave me my first sacraments was confident that I understood and believed all I needed to in order to enter into full communion with the church. "The rest will come in time", is what he said. 

I stopped protesting the Catholic Church when I began to 'experience reality in its sacred independence'--when I began to acknowledge that if I really wanted to know a person or thing I had to relinquish my attitudes and beliefs and see it as it really is. It didn't happen overnight. It took about three years of inquiry, study, prayer, and living before I took formal steps to enter the Church. I can admit that fourteen years later there are still things about the Faith I don't understand or fully embrace (just as there are things about my husband I don't understand or embrace . . . but he is thee, and I am me, and together we are We). But I can also admit that it was only when I began to see God as having a will and life outside of my will and life--as sacred and independent--that I understood reverence, and my heart was stirred to the longing necessary for be-longing. 

Ms. Theroux writes about 'home' as a place in time. She identifies 'home' as the 'center of our universe', and the places where we live as "circles within circles" in time. She goes back to the place of her childhood where she "knows and is known by people whose memories are long enough to tell you how much around the eyes you look like like your grandmother" and who provide "a deeper context than you can give yourself." She writes about a beach that is the place of many important memories in her life. But, midway through her visit back 'home' she feels the pull of the place that is currently the center of her universe and longs to return to it. "I have sometimes viewed my house as a kind of exterior brain cavity, my thoughts contained within the folds of the curtains, leaves of the books, and dents in the sofa cushions." 

At the end of her essay Ms. Theroux asks, "But tell me this: Is the circumference where you grew up or where you're growing now?" This is an interesting question to me because it supposes a forward trajectory of growth in the human person. I don't want to make anyone's head hurt, but having experienced significant set-backs in the last two years, I just don't know if human development works that way at all. In every age I see myself trying to make sense of what I hear and see and feel while attempting to love and live peacefully with those around me. Sometimes I do all right, and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I think I did better in another time and place than I am doing now. There were certainly times in my life when things seemed clearer to me. But, oddly, despite my uncertainty, there has never been a time when I have felt more at home. 

Until next week. ♥

The last couple of days have been cold and gray with temperatures in the forties. It's good weather for staying indoors and reading and writing. (I've knit a little, too, but not that much.) In the stories I write, one of my favorite themes is perception. Every minute of every day we make judgments based on what we see and hear. We think we know people. We think we can trust our senses. Let me ask you: is that fog up ahead in the woods or is it smoke?

Would you ever have suspected that it was the spray from an open hydrant? (That's what it was!) How often are we wrong about the things we think we know without ever realizing it? And what does this say about our "reality"?

My three young men

Family History

 

In my last post I wrote about a family mystery that cannot be solved. No matter how hard I gaze into the mists of time, the stories of those people will never come into view. And it is a great loss, because I know that the truth is more intriguing than anything I can imagine.  

In contrast, my mother's people have been in North America since the 18th century. My grandmother's people were Irish and my grandfather's people were French Canadian and Scottish. There are some photos, legal and church records, newspaper reports and stories. 

The photo above is my great-great grandfather Joseph Bresette. He was a handsome man; my grandfather, uncle and mother bear some resemblance to him. His is a story worth remembering and telling, one that strikes me as deeply romantic in its truth:

St Lawrence Republican - May 21, 1913 News of the death of J Bresette of Heuvelton reached this place recently which occurred April 8th after a long and severe illness from a complication of diseases accompanied by old age. He was born in the town of Brasher and lived there until his coming to Lisbon where he was married to Martha Dashnaw, which took place March 2, 1858. He was known as a good man, a good neighbor, a kind husband and a tender and loving father and was well respected by all who knew him. He served his country as a true soldier. On the 10th of September he enlisted in the 60th Infantry and served one year. He then re-enlisted in the cavalry and served three years until honorably discharged. He was a prisoner in Belle Isle and Libby Prison. His health became impaired from the sufferings there and never a well man after. A few years ago he sold his farm near Mount Alone and bought a home in Heuvelton where he lived until his death. If he was once your friend it was hard to be otherwise. He disliked to lose confidence in a friend. He was a true Republican and always took a great interest in all that concerned the Republican party. He was a well-read man and could converse in the topics of the war and of political affairs for hours and was much interested in the affairs of foreign wars and countries. His age was 77 years 3 months and, four days. He leaves his aged companion, 73 years old, and two brother and three sisters and five children; Henry Bresette of Dekalb, Theodore Bresette of Ogdensburg, Mrs. Margaret Lalone, Mrs. Martha Creighton; Mrs Lettie Chambers and number of grandchildren to mourn his departure. He has answered the last roll call, the lights are out, he has gone and the flag he so valiantly fought for still waves over the land of the free and the home of the brave. The funeral was from the R. C. church at Heuvelton; interment at that place; services by Rev. Father Kitts of the R. C. church

This is a photo of his wife, my great-great grandmother Mary Martha Dashnaw. She is not a pretty woman, but as I study her photograph, I get the impression that she was a woman who smiled easily and often. I have a feeling that smile transformed her, and I think in that I bear some resemblance to her.

Family Mystery

 

We visited the greenhouses yesterday. Inside it was as warm and bright and verdant as summer. I felt like skipping, but I restrained myself for my children's sake.: ) There is still lots of snow outside, but today is the third day of 40° temperatures and it is all soft and melty like whipped cream.

I opened the stack of new notebooks I received for my birthday back in January. I keep a diary and regularly fill them up. Each morning I record the date, the weather, my blood pressure (I struggle with hypertension; I am, unfortunately, a sensitive, nervous sort) and little quotes, notes and daily happenings.

I have always been intrigued by my family history, but it is nearly impossible to learn anything beyond the names and dates of the people who came before me. How I wish that some of them would have kept a diary, or the letters they received, or even a kitchen receipt book! On my father's side of the family tree there is nothing. We do not even have a true name. My maiden name (Nodzo) is an invention. It exists nowhere in the world except upstate New York. My great-grandfather Jacob Nodzo came to the United States from the Kingdom of Galicia in 1909. He and his family were musicians. He had two brothers and two sisters and each of the three Nodzo "branches" has a different telling of our family's origin. One branch talks of a noble Austrian heritage, another says Hungarian, Jacob identified himself as Ukrainian, but his daughter, my great aunt Helen told me that her father was Jewish. So who knows? (My father has a rare autoimmune disease that primarily effects people of Eastern European Jewish descent, so the Jewish thing makes sense to me, but Dad insists his grandfather was Ukrainian Catholic)  As for me, I plan on leaving behind enough notebooks and letters to satisfy any of my great-great grandchildren's curiosity about their ancestor.

Really wonderful fountain pens $3.30 each: Platinum Preppy

All of the comments on my last post gave me loads of encouragement--thank you so much for your good, kind thoughts! My first lesson in becoming an optimist is to wake up each morning and decide that no matter what happens it is going to be a good day, one in which I will accomplish all that I set out to do: pray, write in my journal, complete lesson work with Luke, Em, and Amy; keep the laundry going, write at least one page of my manuscript, work on my knitting, and attend to my usual household tasks (meals, shopping, pet care, etc.). So far, I am having a really great week. I feel good and I am still smiling. : ) I will admit that there have been a few times when I have had to remind my kids that I am an optimist now, and therefore will not be tempted into negativity. And, Zachary has taken to calling me Optimus Prime, which is rather hilarious. But, the wondrous thing is how much more productive I am with a positive outlook--I really do feel a bit like a superhero.

I am about half finished knitting the first sleeve of the Zest cardigan. It looks a little weird, a little oddly shaped., a bit too short (I'll need to add some extra rounds), but I know that I followed the pattern directions correctly, so I am going to be optimistic about how it will all turn out. In fact, I expect it will be beautiful. 

I have fifteen rows left to knit on Clue #1 of Ysolda's Mystery Knit Along. I have to say that it is really fun! I've decided to begin with option B for the first clue and am loving the results. Usually when I start a new project, I find myself second guessing the yarn/color I have chosen, but this time I am very happy with my selection--the color looks just like sun-dappled meadow grass, and I think it will be totally wearable and go with almost anything it's paired with: navy, yellow, red, purple, blue, . . .

At the moment, I am not reading anything but am waiting for a few books I've placed on hold at the library: Under The Wide And Starry Sky, by Nancy Horan, I Shall Be Near To You, by Erin Lindsay Mccabe, and The Vanishing, by Wendy K. Webb. I wonder which one will arrive first.

What are you knitting and reading this week?

Dragonflies

 

I took these photos on my walk today. I'm pleased with how they turned out, considering that I have to time everything perfectly and hope the shot is in focus with my ancient camera (because I can't tell without my glasses, and since I don't need them for distance, I don't bring them when I'm out walking). There were lots of dragonflies darting around the pond today--the first sunny day in nearly a week. (Click on a photo for better viewing.)

Have I ever mentioned that the title of my finished novel is Dragonfly? It's set in 19th century Massachusetts. The heroine is a young woman who studies dragonflies and makes detailed paintings of them. In the story, she encounters the fantastic, finds herself at the center of a dangerous mystery and falls in love. At the heart of Dragonfly is the frailty of human perception. I hope to tell you more about it one day. ♥

Right now, I'm heading out back to sit by the pool and read.  I haven't yet finished The Firebird, by Susanna Kearsley, but I've decided to put it aside. It's a bit slow paced for me and lacks a compelling conflict. I had the same trouble with Winter Sea. However, both stories started with a great idea, and Kearsley has a nice storytelling voice. Instead, I'm reading some of Leo Tolstoy's short works and enjoying every minute of it. I think I will bring out my colored pencils and illustrate some of my diary entries, too. After that, maybe I'll take a swim before it's time to get the grill going for supper. : )

Green and Gray

 

It's been damp all week, and Elvis and I have been out walking in the green-gray woods. My mind is dreaming a story that isn't quite ready to be told. My daughter urges me to write, write, but I must be patient and let the pieces of the thing fall into place. It is hard, because I planned to have the first draft of this second novel finished by now. I do everything so slowly, yet life seems to be speeding up. How is it that half the new year is gone? I will need at least a hundred years to get it all done--all of this stuff in my head and heart. Will my hands still work then? Will my eyes still see?

What to do? Take the colors of the sky and trees and make a new thing (maybe another caponcho). Read. Fill up on life and wonder (and salad greens). Keep up the laundry. Swim in the pool. Plod ahead, tortoise style, one word and sentence at a time.

Our pet tortoise "Daisy"

Growing Stories

I spent Saturday afternoon on my hands and knees working in my garden, clearing out rose petals and dead-heading spent blossoms. It was the most enjoyable couple of hours I've spent in a long while:  bee buzz, butterfly wings, birdsong, dragonflies, moist earth, spicy stems, sweet perfume; these are the keys that open my soul.

A golden day can tell a dark tale . . .

. . . see how perception changes everything? A leaf falling from a tree onto the forest floor makes a gentle sound and is a lovely thing, unless you are an ant. Then it is a piece of the green sky: broken, dark, loud--disaster!

Still, whichever way you see things, I wouldn't open that door in the garden wall--the tiny one hidden behind the lilies that has been locked for a hundred years. The one just big enough for a rabbit but not a fox. Who do you think made it? No, you're wrong; only humans can make doors. But, here is something they know: doors are not only a way in, they are also a way out. The next time you are lost in the wood and encounter a frog or a bear or a wild dog, it may be a prince from that other place beyond the garden wall. Will you pet it? Give it a kiss? Run for your life?

What if the people we meet everyday are more wonderful than we perceive them to be? What if their wrinkles and fat and tight shorts are just a disguise? What if everything is love and miracles? The falling leaf, the green sky, the wild dog, everything.

Susan <3

Survey Results

A big thank you to everyone who participated in my Reading Preference Survey! Here are the results:

1) Do you have an e-reader:  Five out of nine participants own an e-reader. One participant sometimes reads e-books on a computer.

2) Do you read more print books or e-books?  Nine out of nine participants read more print books than e-books. Nine out of nine participants expressed a preference for print books. 

3) Do you buy or borrow the majority of books you read? Five out of eight participants usually borrow the books they read. Three out of eight participants usually buy the books they read (two in this group buy mostly used books). (One participant did not answer this question.)

4) How do you typically select a book? Do you browse the library or bookstore shelves? Read reviews/recommendations online or in the newspaper? Base your choice on a friend's recommendation? Eight out of nine participants responded to this question. All eight listed browsing and online recommendations from friends (Yarn Along, Goodreads friends, etc.) as their primary book selection factors.

5) How important are the following in influencing you to read a particular book (please rank high, medium, or low):  Six out of nine participants responded to this question.

a) Format (print or e-book)?  2 low, 1 medium, 3 high

b) Cover art / cover summary?  3 low, 2 medium, 1 high

c) Online reviews?  2 low, 4 medium

d) Friend's recommendation?  2 low, 3 medium, 1 high

e) Media buzz? 6 low

f) Price?  3 low, 1 medium, 2 high

g) Other influences (please describe)? genre; free e-books

This survey involved a very small sampling of readers and therefore cannot predict the outcome of a large population. Even so, the results are quite interesting to me. One participant wisely suggested that the reading habits of teens might be more relevant in gauging how the publishing industry is changing, I searched for a study about the reading habits of young Americans and found this:

 

Surprisingly, the e-book format is most popular with people 30 to 39 years old. It is least popular with people over 65 and with teens 16-17 years old.

Among Americans who read e-books, those under age 30 are more likely to read their e-books on a cell phone (41%) or computer (55%) than on an e-book reader such as a Kindle (23%) or tablet (16%). (From the same study).

Thank you again for your interest in this topic.

Have a wonderful day!

Susan <3

Everything's Coming Up Roses

 

 

Ah, June!  My rose garden is in full bloom--a living rainbow. : )  The last few weeks have been very busy ones at my house. We've had lots of out-of-town guests visit us, and on the weekends we've been traveling back and forth to my hometown (in another state) for bridal showers, graduation parties, birthdays and such. I haven't had any time to plant tomatoes and peppers yet, and I'm a little worried that I won't be able to find any left at the garden center.

Sometimes the simplest knitting patterns are the ones that I end up botching:. I knit along merrily, without much thought, and then when the project is nearly finished I realize, "This doesn't look right." That's what happened to my "Rosa's Caponcho." I was almost done and had to rip it all out and start over. Luckily, it's a quick knit in bulky weight yarn. This time it is shaping up nicely.

I promised an update about Knitpicks "Billow" 100% cotton yarn. All the worries I had about this thick and thin yarn have settled into a deep affection for the fabric it produces. Its cushy soft, uneven, textural look strikes me as being similar to "hand-made" designer sweaters I've seen in high-end stores. I am definitely going to purchase more of this yarn as soon as the out-of-stock colors become available again.

Last night I started re-reading an old Mary Stewart book. She stands as one of my all-time favorite authors. I love the way she masterfully blended suspenseful mysteries with romance. My favorite titles are: Rose Cottage, Thornyhold, and Touch Not The Cat.

I found out on Friday that my manuscript, Dragonfly, is a finalist in the Young Adult category of a  romance writing competition. Woot! Woot! You may have noticed that I've updated my banner image. My son re-designed it to capture more of the essence of Dragonfly.

Have a great day!

Susan <3

Joining Ginny for her weekly Yarn Along. : )

A happy day for me is . . .

A walk in the woods  . . .

 

 

with "Tenacious P" . . .

and "Baby E" . . .

  
being with friends . . .

And . . .

ordering yarn for a new knitting project  +  completing the first chapter of a new writing project that I am really excited about.. : ) I'm back to using my ancient Kodak digital camera (since I killed my Nikon), and you know what? I'm remembering how much fun I used to have with this bulky old beast. I don't have much of an eye for pictures, but I do think that my old Kodak takes a pretty good one. (My son says, "Hey, Ma. If you think so, that's all that matters." Ha!)