Anna Scott Graham's Blog, page 6

Never prudent to assume anything

A heart quilt.

Just finished Part One of On Being Brave. And other incidents of bravery, lol.

Welp, as my eldest daughter sometimes exclaims, I finished the first part of my current noveling WIP. Should probably update my WIP page, I do believe.

But first I wanted to write this entry, posting pics of the beautiful Mr. Carter hearts English paper piecing quilt. This pattern, from Tales of Cloth, was an easy and uplifting project I began late last year after my nation elected a president I do not find at all appealing. Cutting, basting, then stitching heart blocks was SO NECESSARY. There aren't enough exclamation points in existence to exemplify how imperative it was to construct those blocks, then begin to place them accordingly.

So many gorgeous prints in heaps of beautiful colours!

So, scattered within this post more to do with writing are shots of a quilt I am still missing in my evening repertoire. Not sure when I'll make another, but dang, one day I hope to! Yet, as today's title notes, it's not wise to presume anything. Because just a smidge over twenty K into the first of four short stories, after completing Chapter Seven, I found I was DONE with the initial tale! 

Done as in COMPLETED, FINITO, FINISHED, etc, etc, etc. As done with that story (but not the entire book) as I was DONE with the heart quilt top (but not the entire cozy). WHOA!

Being D-O-N-E is all a matter of perspective, perseverance, and the indescribable feeling of once again existing in the writing zone. Oh. My. GOODNESS! It's so great to have reached The End of that small tale, and just as inspiring is pondering the start of Part Two tomorrow. I mean, I could spend the morning making soup, and I might, no saying I won't, although I also might write another Chapter One. Each story corresponds to a set of characters within The Enran Chronicles. And seeing there are three books (shameless plug) available (with the fourth destined for an autumn release), it's fitting to have four stories within Book Five. Or at least I think so.

Left side of quilt.

And since it's my series, my characters, my toes in the noveling river, that's how it's going to proceed. On Being Brave isn't merely Book Five's title, but my immediate state of emotional bearing. Oh, and have I mentioned I currently have laryngitis? My husband is better, thank the LORD, but from his cold I have retrieved the complete inability to speak out loud. Lots of whispering, well, some whispering, but vocal rest is a must, so I mumble when absolutely necessary. I'm being quiet in speech, but dang prolific in prose.

Today I wrote nearly four thousand words. Some this morning, some this afternoon. Reaching the end of Chapter Seven, I realized, "Hey, I think I can close up this story here. Today. Um, yay!" Checking my brief notes accumulated at the document's completion, all that I had slated to occur will be an epilogue at the book's true end. Up next is Squee, Jale, Yamist, Garfillan, Da'Nota and those dwelling on Enran proper. If you want to know their backstories, check out Book Three: Far Away From Home.

Bottom right side of quilt.

That's not so much a (shameless) plug as merely a nod to the scope of this series and of Book Five, as well as insight to my indefatigable imagination. Also to my love of character-driven science fiction. And to how deeply this cast has wormed its way into my heart. Thank goodness only my voice is gone. If the day comes that I can't write....

Welp, I'll ponder that if it becomes an issue. Not prudent to assume anything these days, nor to exclude The Possibility of What If. Another shameless plug, lol, for a fantasy series I just finished reading again for the sheer pleasure of it. Which is why I write, for the utter joy of crafting tales, building worlds, reveling in other people's drama, hahahaha!

One more of the whole kit'n'kaboodle. My goodness this is a pretty quilt!

And with that, time to update the WIP page, then move on with perhaps some stretches for my lower back. Not that stretching will heal my vocal chords, but keeping as limber as possible (for as long as possible, ahem) is important as I get older. Writing short stories is a great manner to reintegrate the noveling process into my life. It's been a couple of years since I wrote something new, maybe why it feels so MARVELOUS to have wrapped up one small tale. Enjoy your week, and may magnificent surprises bring awesome thrills your way!

Life without a heart quilt

Not the heart quilt but what I worked on last night for my medallion quilt also known as Alexandria. Pics of heart quilt coming soon!

Kind of like life without grandkids around, or being on the other side of the solstice.

It's an emptiness or loss that you knew couldn't be avoided. Eventually one quilt top is completed, and even if you make the pattern again, different fabrics proffer an altered vibe. And IF the same fabrics in exactly the same placement were used, the manner of application cannot be duplicated. Life isn't static. Everything changes.

Yesterday after lunch our daughter and her crew departed for their home. Items were left behind, nothing essential, merely a way to remind us that a return trip is desired, or how I interpret it, lol. I threw some things in the wash, collected scattered toys and scraps of paper from art projects off the floor. I still need to toss their milk, as we drink lactose free and have no use for regular two percent. Last night as I sat to sew, having brought all my hoo haa back to the coffee table, I suddenly felt an odd melancholy, first for the strange stillness, then for what I was stitching. I retrieved stuff for Alexandria; diamonds required basting, then to be sewn into pairs, then added to a hexagon block. Yet despite being English paper piecing, this wasn't at all similar to my heart quilt, which I still need to photograph. That heart quilt truly made inroads that now make me ponder its existence within my little old life.

Our lives are....what we make of them. They can be loud or unobtrusive, meaningful or lacking in focus. And they can be all these things swirled together! And/or might be better, for as I said, we change, grow, regress, grow again, change again, regress again (SIGH), and on and on we meander along paths which can't be predicted no matter HOW MUCH we think we've prepared and/or anticipated. I assumed the weather this weekend was going to be steeped in early morning clouds, but I was wrong! Yesterday and today we've had sunny starts, a total thrill as I've gotten to admire the amazing solstice sunrise, WOO HOO! Our grandsons jumped on the trampoline much of yesterday morning while the sun shone so brightly, so kindly, and so oddly might I add. Summers along the North Coast aren't known for being the brightest times of the year even if the sun is at its highest peaks in the sky. Yet we were wholly blessed by lovely weather, great adventures, and togetherness that came like a gift, then departed like the breaking mist, leaving us as faraway grandparents grateful for the moments shared with beloveds, then lamenting the eventual distance.

Kind of how I feel when days become less summery as the sun heads south along the horizon. And how I felt last night sewing on a different quilt, although the heart quilt is merely yards away, resting on the work table in my office.

And, might I add, it's not leaving anytime soon because 1) I need to turn it into a FINISHED quilt and 2) It's for a dear friend when she retires, and that is a future activity as yet undetermined.

So that awesome collection of hearts will be hanging around, and when the time comes, I'll be faffing with it as I construct its other side, which I am currently planning to be a Kawandi-style design. That in itself will be SLOW STITCHING, so indeed that heart quilt top shall grace our home for a good while. But the exact method of handling all those heart blocks is OVER. DONE. FINITO. COMPLETED. And that very process will never happen again.

What I was, um, grappling with about thirteen hours ago, ahem.

Yet to analyze that wasn't for last night. I was tired. I wanted to sew, not having done any for a couple of days what with beloveds visiting. And I needed to ponder/process this unique sensation, which I can't say I've overtly experienced other than when I finished making the blocks for my Cornflower quilt. I truly ADORED that design, can admire the finished quilt from where I now sit on the sofa, typing this on a laptop in the living room. I didn't feel like going into the office to write this post, mostly because I'm still doing laundry and I can hear the washer and dryer's chimes better downstairs, and not have to trudge up and down stairs, LOLOL. And sometimes I like to change up my day, like keeping lots of EPP projects on hand to switch between them. But now the heart quilt is out of the rotation. The sun is starting its very slow at the moment trek southward, losing a few seconds of discernible light each day. By August that acceleration will increase, though for now the long days remain, even if the grandkids have gone home and the heart quilt lives in the office.

And for that awesome array of light, I am indeed VERY THANKFUL! One or two changes at a time please.

Quilt top finish and other WIPs

Row B 6 upside down. The final row of this quilt!

I have yet to snap a photo of the Mr. Carter Heart EPP quilt top, but I will. In a few days. After our youngest daughter and her boys have visited. They are on their way, but I have time to wax a little poetically. Or something like that.

Finishing that quilt top happened last night, kind of by accident. I was tired. The San Francisco Giants were losing to the Cleveland Guardians. While sewing, I realized I was nearly done with the project, but constant yawns made me wonder if I'd have the gumption to complete it. Plus all the needles I had threaded were running out, and while it wasn't dark where I was sitting, the light was growing dim. Even so close to the solstice, eventually evening wins out.

The Giants didn't win, but that was after I went to bed. After I threaded ONE MORE NEEDLE (using my reading glasses, which are stronger than my prescription lenses, ahem), I sewed the final side of a heart block, then stared at the seam. I had taken pictures a couple of days ago, when lining up the last row, for this very post. But I didn't think I'd have finished the quilt before this particular entry was written.

Yet sometimes life is like that. It's not spoilers really, more of, "Oh this TRULY COOL THING happened and, well, yeah."

Yeah. I finished that beautiful pattern, having used gorgeously warm prints, and in a few days I'll hang it on the line, take the appropriate photographs, and VOILA, another quilt top is DONE.

Clover clipping the row to the quilt. Now all that sewing is a memory.

Lots of ALL CAPS in this post, sorry! I don't mean to shout, but DANG it's nice to have that completed. It's really awesome to have family on their way, also sweet to squeeze in this entry, lol. LOL! Um, yeah, lol. It's also BITCHIN' to have six chapters written, LOL! Lots of laughing out loud, especially since the Giants won TODAY, hahaha. Writing didn't happen this morning, trying to prep the house for guests, but I read over Chapter 6 and am pretty happy. Happy to be writing, happy with WHAT I'm writing, LOL.

LOL.

Uh yeah, it's that kind of post.

Anyways.... I made Jello for my husband, who is still recovering, and the kitchen smells like red sweet, um, sweetness. It's strawberry flavour (the Jello, not the kitchen), but I highly doubt it tastes like strawberry, just red. And sweet.

LOL.

Beds are made, the house bathroom mucked off, dining table adorned with new summer placemats. I could have swept, but my right knee is achy. Earlier today the meniscus went TWING while I was merely walking. Getting old isn't easy, but it's better than not aging.

ANYWAYS.... That's the latest here. Happy Juneteenth! Happy red sweet smelling Jello! Happy six chapters and VERY HAPPY quilt top finish!

(Meh meniscus notwithstanding....) 

Four chapters in...

Brollies in the green colourway; Kaffe Fassett designed this gorgeous fabric, which I am turning into a placemat.

Mourning and rejoicing simultaneously, because what else is there to do?

At the end of last week, I finally started writing. Kind of a Just Do It! sort of situation, and much to my thrilled relief, I have nearly twelve thousand words accumulated. That's pretty darn fine amid occurrences that feel pretty damn horrific. "Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn." Romans 12.15. Because truly, that's what we're called to do.

In the smuggled correspondence with his best friend Eberhard Bethge, imprisoned Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote that most of his fellow prisoners only knew whatever emotion was most prevalent; they were frightened if circumstances were poor, greedy when opportunities arose, despairing as though no hope existed. Bonhoeffer sounds a little judgemental here, yet his complaints are valid, in that he then espouses how in the novel Witiko, the protagonist thusly named seeks to live a 'whole' life. Bonhoeffer notes the only way to do so is to embrace a vast array of experiences and emotions, feeling in full the variety life offers, good and bad. The America I grew up in seems to have vanished in thin air, one reason I attend protests and contact my reps, so my grandchildren might know a glimmer of liberty. We CANNOT let these thugs, both in the government and their supporters, steal our joy. Bonhoeffer didn't let his jailers curtail his vital theological work, and I can't let abominable politicians and assassins thwart my writing.

Having said all THAT, I am grateful the Minnesota shooting suspect has been captured, dismayed by Utah senator Mike Lee's grossly inappropriate tweets about the murders. I pray for the Hortman family, for the Hoffmans to recover fully, and for those like Senator Lee to never endure what the Hortman and Hoffman families are suffering. I have to keep my heart and head above the din, which means paying attention to my own business, ahem. It also means to enjoy what I do, write about such blessings while keeping in my thoughts those in sorrow. A dear friend is in hospital, while my own hubby is STILL SICK. Our hearts take those lickings, but we keep on.....

Not fighting, or not all the time. We engage in love, in struggles, in sadness, in victory. Victories feel rather thin these days, why I'm so pleased with those four chapters. Why I'm chuffed to only have one row left to stitch onto my heart quilt. Why I'm working on simply placemats, gifts for my hubby, as he really likes Kaffe Fassett's Brollies print. I bought three more colourways of it with the granddaughters a couple of weeks ago, and pinned the last two placemats yesterday. Tonight's stitching will be that last row of heart blocks, finishing one of two placemats, while watching some sort of sport. Is basketball on, I don't even know. The SF Giants lost two of three games to the LA Dodgers. Weird that amid the ongoing attempt to establish a dictatorship, there's still America's pastime to consider, like multiple realities exist within this nation. Maybe it's always been like that, separate realms for Rich Americans, Poor Americans, White Americans, Black Americans, Hispanic Americans, Asian Americans, Native Americans, Straight Americans, LGBTQIA+ Americans, Jewish Americans, Muslim Americans, Atheist Americans, Buddhist Americans, Sikh Americans, Nationalistic Christian Americans, Christians Not Seeking To Overthrow The Republic Americans, etc, etc, etc.

Sorry this has drifted off in a vent-tangent. But unlike how blithely the Honorable Senator Mike Lee views the murders of Melissa and Mark Hortman and the attacks on John and Yvette Hoffman, I am sickened by the violence and the dispute of facts toward the suspect. I am aghast at the chilling rhetoric and lack of empathy and how few have taken responsibility. And I am downcast at how another shooting has wreaked havoc on people simply wanting to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. For that is what life is about: Sharing in our tandem existence on this earth in all the ways the heart does best. Loving, caring, understanding: That is truly what this life is about.

Condolences and prayers to the Hortman and Hoffman families

I didn't learn of this until mid-afternoon. The tragic scope of unbridled hatred that stems from our current governmental administration is directly responsible for these heinous crimes.

This morning I read a brief devotional that noted how conditions won't alter unless our hearts do. Until violent rhetoric and mean-spirited actions stop, tragedies like this will continue.

I don't know what to do other than pray for those mourning their beloveds, those fighting for their lives and their loved ones. Stay safe everyone.

 

Turning points

A peek at my back steps garden; Sweet Williams flourish as do volunteer nasturtiums.

In that my husband is feeling better! Not completely over his cold, but better.

In that the migration of my Smashwords account to Draft2Digital is done! Not that I'm completely at home there, but it's done.

In that I wrote over twenty-four hundred words today! Not that one chapter constitutes a book, but it's a start.

WHEW! Those are indeed some turning points. Especially the first and last ones. The first one personally, the last one.... Kinda personal, kinda 'professional', for what my writing means as more than a pastime, lol. Mostly the last one is a RELIEF. Well, my husband's well-being is also a relief, but you know....

Anyway, I'm feeling RELIEVED on various levels. D2D is what it is; if I'd had my choice, I be happy to stay with the familiar. Been publishing with Smashwords since 2011. I'm fine with their Meatgrinder system, or I was, but now that's the past. And sometimes the past never comes again.

Good health returns, WOO HOO! Writing continues, OMG YES! Maybe I cannot state how awesome it felt to write. It was pretty damn fantastic! My *hope* is to complete this as a short story/novella, write three more, then call that Book Five for The Enran Chronicles. Time will tell how successful is that notion.

(If it does work, I would be SO GRATEFUL. Especially since in breaking down a book into four manageable pieces, the writing itself becomes less stressful to reenter. Yes, I feel like I'm reentering a beloved arena. Whatever!)

One more shot of the nasturtiums; the lower one is literally growing out of a crack. Sometimes beauty emerges from an unlikely source.

Other turning points exist, but those are for me to ponder quietly. Well, one is studying in depth Eberhard Bethge's biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. But what I take from that is merely for my own edification.

So that's the latest: Writing. A new publishing site. My husband no longer hacking up a lung. Oh and it's SUNNY out today. Three days of fog/marine layer have been swept aside, revealing blue sky, warm temps for our neck of the woods and maybe, but probably not likely, a peek at the not quite full as last night's moon. If clouds roll in before that happens, I'll be grateful for the sun that shines as I write this post.

Gratitude matters, just saying....

The long days

From 20 June, 2005; our village in England. This was snapped at 8.11 p.m!

The impending summer solstice, a sick spouse, and other musings....

I love the lead up to the longest day of the year. Daylight-wise, the solstice is a magical moment that hasn't been diminished despite my mum passing on that day several years ago. Hard to believe she's been gone that long, hard to imagine what she'd make of life today.

Long days are still long even if the marine layer muscles in, attempting to lessen the brightness of the rising, then risen sun. Last week when the granddaughters were here, sunshine beckoned without any clouds. For three or four days I watched the sun rise so far north on the horizon, or how it appeared. Even with the fog, the light can't be hidden. This is my favourite season of the year!

(It was even more astonishing when we lived in Britain, as we were further north than I am today, but that's a memory for another post....)

My husband's cold continues, poor chap! Nothing we can do about that but wait out the recovery. We've been indulging in ancient Great British Bake Off series in the evening, will do so again tonight as I stitch Kawandi-style a placemat partially sewn by my eldest grandgirl! She and her sister learned the basics of machine sewing last week, and will receive their placemats as soon as I finish big sis's, wash it, then post it. Teaching kids to sew requires patience on everyone's part, and reminding kids THEY CONTROL THE FABRIC. I think they more enjoyed rummaging through the scrap tote for practice strips, but next time they visit, I'll get out my old machine so both can have a go without one hovering over the other, hah!

It might not be hot here, but it's certainly bright, and definitely not cold. My hip is better, thank you Jesus! I'm itching to get baby chicks, but also hoping to put the next few weeks to good writing use, time will tell. On my list of To Do's for today was to investigate timelines for characters in The Enran Chronicles, specifically Tama and Bobby. Not sure I'll get to that, but there's always tomorrow.

Tomorrow the daylight will increase by thirty-nine seconds, hot damn! Even if clouds act like they own the place, I'll most likely wake to some level of brightness. I sure HOPE I don't wake before dawn, dude! If I do, I'll make a pot of partially caffeinated tea, and revel in how early the day begins. And this evening I'll enjoy how late the sun sets, even though by then a marine layer will attempt to obscure some of the light. That's fine, nature bats last every single day. But these days nature has to have a late shot of espresso because summer is doing its awesome thing. And I'm going to sit back and watch as yet one more day slips into the past, just not as dark as the previous one.

Not just a cog in the machine

Why stitch a small autumnal coaster when so much else is waiting? 

Maybe a better sentence is why do anything when the world seems fraught with unsolvable issues? Or maybe that's too deep to analyze. However, stuff like that has been on my mind, reading most mornings just snippets from Eberhard Bethge's biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was Bethge's friend, mentor, as well as relative through marriage.

I could veer off on a faith-based tangent, and perhaps one of these days I will. However right now my granddaughters are visiting, the youngest still in bed and if she wanders down imminently, breakfast will be my agenda for us both. Yet mentioning these musings matters, because they are strongly on my mind. That my faith propels me to be in this world, not out of it, a tenant I've claimed over the years. That as a believer in Christ, I am not of this world, and lately I've discovered how incorrect that is.

That sewing a small autumnal coaster in early summer with heaps of other fabric projects waiting is simply a tasking for NOW, or rather the last few days, lol. That studying the incomplete ponderings of a German Lutheran theologian who died at the end of World War II because he took part in a conspiracy to topple Hitler is quite relevant to life today. That teaching my granddaughters the very beginnings of sewing by machine was our thrill yesterday morning. That my husband's head cold continues, postponing our getting baby chicks today, but not dampening our hope to acquire them later this month. That all the little and large things we dream and/or accomplish MATTER despite the wrongs perpetrated that seem beyond our ability to alter.

Yeah, that about sums up where I am today.

And it's June

Venus from this morning around 5.11 a.m.

Not going to ponder more than that on that subject. It's June, 'nuff said.

Our granddaughers are visiting, and today Grandpa took them to Dyerville to see the giant tree that fell in 1991. I'm still fighting that dang cold, but my back is MUCH BETTER. I'm looking forward to hearing what the girls thought of such an enormous nurse tree!

What else??? Doing a little hand-sewing, watching a terrific season (2014) of Great British Bake Off with the girls; it's the Nancy/Richard/Luis series, with Martha, Kate, Norman, Iain, Jordan, Diana, Chetna, Enwezor, and Claire. The girls request a series on each visit, and it's lovely reacquainting with marvelous people and their magic with food.

And truly that's about all that's going on; I have loads of thoughts on various subjects, but not enough time to write about them here. Still hoping to get baby chicks soon, which will depend on how I'm feeling by week's end. Just taking life day by daylight-lengthening day, sunny mornings and Venus-spotting making me and my youngest granddaughter smile. (Not that she's up early enough to see the planet, but of course this abuela is, lol!)

A cranky hip and other facts of life

A mug rug in the making. Love those bright colours, courtesy of my youngest daughter.

The train wreck that was my back is now the lingering downed power pole that is my left hip. I am grateful that the entirety of my lower back is amenable to movement, but disappointed at the hip. Can one be disappointed in a body part? I'm sure it's doing the best it can....

Ahem. Whatever is going on, I am underway to discovering the cause of the discomfort, so we'll see where that rabbit hole ends. If nothing else, I am getting over the cold that invariably came my way (of course that was inevitable), and TRULY GLAD my husband agreed that getting baby chicks could wait. Postponing that life alteration occurred after I sliced my finger cleaning the top of the metal feed trough; the underside of the metal made me shout, then bleed, then decide that no matter how eagerly we've waited, baby chicks would be better acquired when we were both healthy (hip not included). By the end of yesterday, when all this drama occurred, I was quite relieved to have made that executive decision, my finger no longer ached, and on goes another day in the life of an erstwhile author, active (hand) quilter, and eventual proprietor of poultry.

Well that's a mouthful and a half! Sometimes it's how life rolls, BAM BAM BAM as though once again I was in my thirties, able to withstand multiple knocks sans blinking. But I'm not that woman anymore. Fifty-nine isn't treating me so fine, LOL, what with the shingles and wonky right knee now topped by Mystery Left Hip Ailment. Not to grouse overtly, but suddenly I'm feeling...old. Yup, that's the long and short of it. I'm old, the body is griping, and I really should take some ibuprofen.

Okay, that's done. My goodness, am I turning into one of those Hey, it's time for pain pills kind of gals? I don't know at this stage. At this stage.... What stage is that exactly? The pre-sixties stage, where I've been for several years, butting up against how time suddenly turns into a precious commodity, etc, etc, etc. All right, not to be an alarmist, but yeah, our bodies, no matter how well we care for them, are all headed for an end. The End, some end! And as a previously mostly healthy sort of person, several ailments within a relatively short span is a BFD; big fat drag.

Although, it's better than not being at all.

Which, of course, is the true END. And if all that immediately suffers (besides myself) is that we don't get baby chicks when originally planned, that is FINE! F-I-N-E fine, let me repeat while gently flexing my left ankle, then bending my left knee, noting a small sensation of discomfort in doing so.

Snapped this the other day while adjusting a manuscript. From Gracious Mysteries (an apt phrase if ever there was one to describe my current situation) in the That Which Can Be Remembered series. Is it time to write something new yet???

So yeah, that's life here. Which is fine other than my hip and knee. Weather is warming up for our neck of the woods, but further inland it's going to be HOT, and I'm grateful (there's that word again) to be right where I am. Along the North Coast, cranky hip and all. Have a terrific weekend, and be gentle on those joints, as they truly are doing the best they can.