Meology

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Springfield, Twenty miles from the District of Columbia
FABRICADABRA is my Sewing Blog, with other bits of interest sprinkled in for fun. I love fabric and creating things from it. FOLLOWING MRS. SUNDBERG is learning what it means to make something for the joy of making it. She's a down-home, comfort-focused, smack dab in the heartland kind of woman, who has a gift for writing, cooking, and generally pointing out the small wonders of every day. THE RUBY THROAT DIARIES documents my passion for these little birds. ©Please respect that everything shared here, including my photos holds personal value and is copyright protected by me, the photographer and writer. Any links to other sites assigns the copyright to their owners, and in sharing them here, I claim no ownership of the content. Please contact me if you would like to use my original work. Otherwise, it's a copyright violation. All use of any of my content must be credited back to me, with a link to my page.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Pushing Myself

I am warming up for some very extensive free-motion quilting on several projects. I have big plans and its time to set them in motion.
I sew with a Babylock Espire, and I am going to put this machine through its paces.
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Turning Season


My love is home from the Pacific. Summer has given way to the fringe of fall, and he notices so many changes that I did not see. When he left, it was blistering hot, and last night we sat on the porch and there was a slight chill in the air.
Rain was scarce this summer, but I still mowed our lawn more than he did with all the travel that took up most of his summer. That makes me feel guilty, somehow. I think he needs what I call 'lawn therapy' more than I. His world is so consumed with precision and order that to see him riding aimlessly back and forth, from the river to the house, does my heart good.

The forest will be giving up its secrets soon with the falling of the leaves. And I will enjoy it all, because fall is my favorite time of year.

And it brings back a poem that I constructed from fragments of something I read a long time ago, plus my own words,  dedicated to my sons, when they were small.

   Who painted that leaf, they wanted to know,
   My sunburned boys with eyes aglow.
   Who painted that leaf, once green, instead
   And painted it bright with colours red.
   And their eyes grew wide, with wonder light,
   As I told a tale of frosty night.
   And the coming on of fall's cool haze,
   Unfamiliar to their sun-same days.


PHOTOS/POEM©pegyates2010

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