Cairns and giving thanks

Cairns

Two years ago, we had to pull a tree down because it was leaning and almost fell on the studio. My husband worked on cutting the base and then put a tow strap around it so we could pull it down. Once it was on the ground, he cut it into chunks, which he placed around the meadow by the studio.
Around here we have many wonderful rocks. A heavy rain a year ago broke a whole bunch of them loose from the creek bed so my husband brought them up the hill and built cairns. I had just been waiting for a nice snow to take a photograph. So these are Bob's cairns ... don't they look like statues? Pike likes them.

While weaving today, I found myself ruminating about things for which I'm thankful. Yes, I did that in November, but I'm doing it again.
So as not to belabor the point, I'll just name a few, in case you're interested.
I'm thankful for my family (my long-suffering husband, my doctor-daughter and brainy son), for my weaving business and the good health to continue to pursue it, for the wonderful piece of heaven where we live, both house and land.
I'm thankful for my friends, especially the ones that don't sound peeved when I call them on the phone.
I'm thankful that although I could draw Social Security, I don't need to so I'm not. And I'm thankful that I am able to ask for senior discounts and not be doubted.
What are YOU most thankful for? Does it change as we age?

So, here is the rug that was woven yesterday ... blues for an early spring. With just a hint of snowflakes ...

Chris

Shorter days, but more to do

I thought when we turned the clocks back last week that I would have some more time to get caught up on stuff ... didn't happen.
I make myself crazy in October and November anyway. The month-long studio tour sounds like a great idea ... it forces me to be at the studio every day, supposedly creating rugs and clothing. But this year I had about 400 visitors for the month and that's a lot of talking, demonstrating, and, yes, selling. Mind you, I'm not complaining, but I did get a little behind in the weaving.
About mid-October, I got a call from a reporter for the local PBS station ... would I like to be on TV, talking about my Recycled Rugs? That was a hard one, seriously. It meant extra effort to make the studio look nice (thanks, Stephanie!), thought about what I should say for the interview (how can you plan ahead for that?), and just having to finally admit that I am now a senior citizen and look the part. But, of course, I ended up saying yes, and here's how it turned out:


You'll love the scene at the end with Pike, the studio cat.
More later ...

Some pictures from the weaving studio ...

This is my weaver's garden ... a small terraced patch off the front deck of the studio. It includes flax and cotton plants, dye plants, herbs and plants with scents like lavendar and scented geraniums.
It is a joy and butterflies and moths love it.
There's a wonderful ceramic garden totem with frogs and dragonflies that was made by my friend Cheri Platter. It's spectacular.
The St. Francis statue holds a small bowl for water.

Working on the porch to design my rugs, I get inspiration from the beauty I behold before me.

Here is a shot inside the studio during the tour last month:

The tours have been a great way to get people to visit the studio and see what we do here.

This rug rack was acquired from a gallery that closed last fall ... it holds more than 50 rugs!

It's a rainy day and probably a good opportunity to do some weaving inside where it's dry and warm. Even WeatherBug is confused today ... it's reporting 33.8 degrees at Columbus, Indiana at 10: 49 on July 22. I don't think so ...

Snowed in, making lists and mentoring

The beginning of the snow ... how beautiful.

No rag rug weaving today.
So we had snow overnight here in the Heartland ... not a lot, by Wisconsin/Minnesota/New York standards, but enough to cause cancellations and travel problems. My hard-working husband drove the 20 miles to his job and I had the whole day to finish some projects. I made a list. Only about 7 or 8 items. I have a pad of paper from decades ago when I was a Mary Kay consultant. It says, "The Six Most Important Things I Must Do" ... so my list was simple, housework things ... copy tax forms, get mail ready, unload dishwasher, do laundry ... etc. Now it's almost dinner time and the list is only half finished. Do I expect too much? Or am I just easily distracted? Or both?
One of the items on the list was to update my blog. My last entry was in April. How embarrassing. Of course, it was about Obama ... and now that he's president, it looks pretty good in retrospect.
But I digress ...
My weaving friend, Hilary, paid me a compliment in her blog this week. We have been buddies for years, talking through emails, IMs and on the phone. But we've never met face-to-face. Someday we will, I'm sure of it.
Our relationship began when she bought a rug from me. She's a late-blooming weaver, but catching up quickly. She occasionally would call with questions about weaving ... which usually were preceded by, "Have you ever ...?" And I almost always had, so I offered suggestions to solve her dilemma. Among other things, she has the coolest studio name, "Crazy as a Loom" and she has more energy than people 20 years younger.
As she notes, we're technically competitors. But I've never felt that way. Hilary likes to weave fabric rugs and I prefer shaggy selvedge rugs. Besides, there are plenty of people needing rugs (especially now, when you want to put your money into things that are beautiful and will last). Sometimes we compare our customers and find that the same person has contacted (and even bought from) both of us.
We've shared other things through the years, but that's business. We've even talked about mounting a joint-venture rug weaving website, but that's still a ways off.
When she had knee replacement surgery last year and was having trouble getting back to the looms, I was there to kick her b**t and tell her she could do it.
We've joked that we're siblings raised separately because we're close in age and very close in the way we view things. I just know that I'm proud of her and what she's achieved in her short weaving experience.
I know she's shoveling through snowbanks to be at her studio, stoking her pellet stove, and I wish I could just sit there with her and dream up even more bizarre things to weave. You go, girl!