seeing more directly what is true

Beware of that determined slide to the worst possible, barely imaginable scenario. You don't have to go there. Let's just see what happens now.        (Sharon Salzberg) 

(facsimile of Emily Dickinson's handwriting with ED mittz)

Good advice, since I just spent the last half hour or more writing and whining about waking up at 3 am to impossibly strong winds blowing in a snowstorm that turned my mind to typical wee hours thoughts of disaster, loss, old age, disease, joy, worry and doubt. When I'd finished writing, all my too many words and photos disappeared. So that's what happened then. This is now. It's snowing. It's pretty. It's winter. The dark time is coming.

Now that I've gotten that out of my system (without any wi-fi connectivity issues), I sit at my kitchen table writing in mid-morning as the snow comes and goes and have faith that in a day or so the sun will return in a Taos blue sky. There is food in the house, my cup of tea nearby, a notebook, camera (just in case), and wool. Wool. Wool.

Completed this cheerful pair of socks that reminds me of alpine ski lodges, mountains and snow that is actually fun to romp in if one is so inclined (I'm not, although I live in the environment described). I immediately began another sock with colors that simply feel good. Joyous socks, flower garden yarn, faith-in-the-future socks....

We face the darkest time of the year and I admit to often having low feelings around the holidays that include losses and gains, memories and longings. I know others do, too. My antidote is wool, color, the act of hands busily moving to create something pretty while the mind goes off on its alpha journey and diminishes some of the darkness. It is my version of hibernating into the tactile pleasure of mostly silent knitting (and writing -- they go together).

Since I no longer do an annual craft fair, I am not compelled to create "inventory" and now only knit what I love and am in the mood for. Yet I am almost always working on something and once finished I can easily let go. It seems to be about the act rather than acquisition. Since I don't need as many pairs of socks (or sweaters or scarves or hand warmers) as I turn out, they generally disappear onto other feet, hands, necks, heads...because other people love these things, too. Strangers, friends, family. It gives me great pleasure when I see or hear of someone wearing socks or hand warmers I knitted, a granddaughter wearing the felted bag, a poet using the teapot cosy as she writes and sips hot tea.

readjusting

Away from this blog for a long long time, I will try to catch up. Back in Taos now after six weeks or so in the east with friends, family, and a writing retreat. Ron was informed that he is "cancer-free" and although he has to build up his strength and gain some weight, he managed to take care of himself in my absence. Actually, I think he was pleased to be free of my nagging him to eat! I walked a lot, knitted some, wrote a lot and did some shopping in the tri-state area. I found a couple of cool yarn shops and indulged in some Malabrigo Finito yarn for handwarmers and a shawlette (kettle dyed in Uruguay).

I (and my eager assistants) had fun "researching" the ubiquitous New York black and white cookie (the one shown is not the traditional version, but it will do). We had to give up the profject when our jeans got a bit too tight. But we will eventually resume for the cause!

I will post about this fun "project" soon. Back east I got to hang out with some new friends.  One friend, today, sent a photo of a Christmas tree trimmed with balls of cashmere yarn! So you see, besides cookies, they got to know me pretty well! Since my granddaughter and great grandson are planning to visit again in early December I may have to trim a Christmas tree this year -- and while it may not be all about cashmere, it could easily be about yarn balls. If they come though, I suspect I might be forced to open those boxes of old old Xmas ornaments stashed in the garage. We are a sentimental lot -- and I haven't seen those contents in many years. Which reminds me that a high point of my visit was being with my older brother Frank (and his beautiful wife Rita) for a whole day. He cooked for me and we reminisced and laughed a lot (also drank Scotch at 4 pm -- his daily prescription for good health (he's going to be 87 in January so manybe he's on to something).

Walking wooded paths, I encountered more dramatic huge mushrooms I still couldn't identify, colorful spiders, deer and cheerful graffiti.

The weather was generally warm and pleasant, but now "...winter circles and moves in..." (Charles Wright) and I need to wrap myself in wool.

At this time, on a dark night in November, I write, sip chilled Pinot Grigio and eat too many Pirouette Chocolate Hazelnut wafers. Not necessarily a good idea, but life is short and you only live once.

she returns

a different kind of beauty

Still in the northeast, I have spent part of each day (when it isn't raining) walking paths near woods. It feels safe and I'm grateful that there is no strenuous hiking. I have encountered interesting natural phenomena. If you are a regular reader you already know that I am not a naturalist, nor a forest ranger, nor particularly entranced by forging new paths through forests and mountains. And god forbid I have to camp out! That said, I thoroughly enjoy not only city sidewalks, but paths and parks that offer abundant foliage, birds and bees, waterfalls, and places to sit to enjoy them with or without my notebook. At this time of year there is also an abundance of strong color which makes me think I need to find a yarn shop around here and buy some new autumn inspired sock yarn.

This giant monster ear thing mushroom fungus along my path measures about 18 inches from end to end. I have no idea of what it is called or whether it's benign or poisonous. It is thriving at the bottom of a long decaying tree stump on damp soil.

As were the orange mushrooms at the bottom of a log. Now I'm looking for sock yarn that  color. It is so vivid and beautiful. Maybe I'll have to dye some yarn when I get home. I'll use packs of orange Kool Aid and Betty Crocker neon orange food coloring....it's worked before and it's fun.

Oh yes, and there is this colorful creature weaving its tangled web on the glass door of the place I'm staying. It's beautiful and scary and I'll use another door to go in and out. I've been advised to kill it, but I can't seem to do it (instead, I'm looking for sock yarn in that color and pattern).

Meanwhile, on these rainy and overcast October days, I'm trying to work on the manuscripts, listen to music on my iPad and do some journaling and knitting as the days and nights get cooler and cosiness sets in. I finally finished a pair of socks that were dragging along for months and I'll post pictures in a couple of days. I walk, embrace solitude and the occasional good company of other writers. Things seem to be going well at home in Taos where I get reports that the sky is stunningly and cloudlessly cobalt blue day after day and snow has already powdered the highest peaks. I wonder if the aspens have already spread swaths of yellow and salmon on those same peaks. Perhaps it's already past. One more example of impermanence.

a rose is a rose

After more than a year of uncertainty, medical concerns and treatments, things are much better and Ron's doctors are encouraged. So while he regroups before the next round of appointments in Albuquerque in early November, I am taking the opportunity to give myself a long sabbatical from caregiving and creative inertia and am heading east for an extended stay. This has been an exhausting year for everyone and since now there's an open window, I'm jumping out of it! (figuratively, not literally). My granddaughter's old Bert (he emerged from a dusty box when she and Dante visited recently) is sitting on the bookshelf and represents how I feel at this time.

But Bert usually keeps a positive attitude and, taking my cue, I'm packing and getting ready to leave on the midnight flight to New York tomorrow. Will see friends and family before heading to a hideaway. The challenge is packing (is there room for one more sweater?). And figuring out how to stuff one more ball of yarn into the smallish suitcase. I dislike huge heavy luggage and try to avoid it even if it means I have to leave lots of clothes behind and wear pretty much the same things for several weeks. Of course that means blacks and browns and items that can be dressed up or down. But the yarn. How much do I bring, where will I buy more if needed? For me color reigns supreme in sock yarns -- the wilder and brighter the better. I'm currently working on the second sock in this pair which I intend to keep for myself (unless someone looks longingly and asks nicely).

It's another wonderful Opal sock yarn from the Le Petit Prince collection (The Rose of the Little Prince) and it reminds me of summer and watermelon, sunsets and...roses.

Part of my escape involves continued work on my other GIOs (guilt inducing objects) also known as manuscripts. My publisher has given me three months to get a completed/edited manuscript to her (or else) and I intend to meet that challenge. Meanwhile, I look forward to autumn in the northeast. It's been years since I experienced that seasonal transition in the tri-state area. And it seems there's already a plan afoot to pick apples on Sunday with a 3 1/2 year old.

september again

A fine Sunday, playing with my new camera. It is a Panasonic Lumix G and even though I've had it for a few weeks and have experimented with settings (mostly auto and manual), I only began exploring the image effects today. So now I'm hooked on taking highly saturated (by choice) photos. In this season when the air seems naturally color-saturated, it's double the fun.

So many things to be sad, joyful and grateful for these days. The weather, health, the color yellow, love, family visits to NM, the camera, my upcoming visit back east with family and friends, followed by a long writing retreat to complete the final edits on the manuscript I planned to work on starting in January. The plan that was derailed due to life interfering. Funny how that happens. And not necessarily funny.

homage to Barbara...and then there were three...
I learned two days ago that an old friend unexpectedly passed. I'd been planning to see her in a couple of weeks in Connecticut. I knew she was ailing since I'd last seen her in July 2013, but she was holding her own at home and planning to buy a new wardrobe for her grandson's barmitzvah at the end of this month. When our first sons, now in their 50's were toddlers, they played together.  We were all newly married, living in the same garden apartment building in NY and became best friends. Our second sons (now in their late 40s) were best friends when we all lived in the same town in CT. Barbara inspired many of the paths I chose over the decades that altered my life's direction. But most of all I remember the endless summer days when she and I and three other women friends sat in a circle in our sand chairs on Bailey Beach in Rowayton and had our own consciousness raising sessions (otherwise known as bitching and dreaming) while our kids (a dozen in all) played in various configurations around us. Gayle, who moved to Taos around the time we did, and whom I've written about, was one of those women. She left us four years ago. Her daughter recalled those beach days and said: it was the original Sex in the City! How true. We were all young and attractive and it was the early 1970's after all! I intend to visit Bailey Beach when I'm back there. I'm sure the sand is still imprinted with the circle of our chairs.

Barbara Kiley Posner 1935-2014

celebrating the present

I have just emerged from a three week period with various family members visiting. So wonderful.

Granddaughter Kira arrived with our great grandson Dante (3 1/2 years old) -- he's the guy in the BIG Mexican hat above...

Kira was 3 1/2 when she first visited New Mexico and stayed with us every summer for a few weeks until she was a teen. It was such a trip to have him here -- she unearthed her old toys (still stored in the box we put them in 10 years ago -- a bit dusty but serviceable) and he played with them (even Barbie)! Whew! talk about deja vu!

Brigadoon
One day we drove up to Victory Alpaca Ranch in Mora (the place I once called Brigadoon -- so remote-feeling and unchanged), through gorgeous mountain roads and areas where, since I moved here I've wished I was a geologist -- I want to know what those dramatic striations represent (next life maybe) and we arrived in time to feed the alpacas. I'd also promised myself to visit the ranch several times (usually around Wool Festival time in October), but never made it, so I was as psyched as Dante. He is a precocious child who knows a lot about every animal and was terribly excited to see actual alpacas. We arrived, waited in the registration/yarn shop area until the guide came for us. His mother and I talked about his affinity for animals and speculated that he might be a veterinarian someday. As soon as we stepped through the gate with cups of feed in our hands, about fifty or more alpacas started moving toward us like a high tide. Dante freaked out (so did I), dropped his cup and yelled, "I want to look at yarn!" Now how's that for a knitter's great grandson? I scooped him up and we headed for the exit and I said to his mother, who stayed on for awhile, forget the veterinarian idea!

Once in the yarn shop he happily touched the soft yarns and items made from it, commented on each and every color and feel and seemed to have no regrets that the "mean" alpacas had so surprised him. His mother admitted that among the gentle alpacas there was one white one who bared its teeth and looked mean. I think it was the one she later took a selfie with...he seems to be smiling...doesn't look mean at all...

While she was here, she totally reorganized my kitchen and helped me declutter. Now that she's gone, although I can't seem to find anything, all I have to do is channel her and it guides me to what I'm looking for. I'm grateful for her youthful energy and caring. Both visits perked Ron up considerably and we were all pleased that his oncologists reported, after tests earlier this month, that they are encouraged.

This was my birthday month and even at my advanced age, I consider birthday months special and celebratory. This one was. Kira and Dante went horseback riding and prior to that, the neighbors' horses showed up -- all much to the delight of my city-dwelling family.

"If I knew that this would be the last time I hear your voice, I'd take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I'd tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already."
     Gabrial Garcia Marquez

bright moon musings

I can hardly believe that's it's been over a month since I last posted on this blog. A had another writing retreat in July and other things have happened, some good, some ifey (is there such a word?). The horses came back. That is good.

And they are super-friendly, hanging out at our wall.

Especially after my son and his granddaughter fed them apples and carrots and chatted them up.

They visited with us for a week (Chris and Megan, not the horses, they're gone already) and it was a lovely week. Good weather, good food and company. We did some sightseeing at Taos Pueblo, The Rio Grande Gorge Bridge (600 feet down and the site of yet another suicide three days before we were there).

I tried to post a photo of the Gorge but it won't download so you'll just have to take my word that it's a long way down.

they're coming! they're coming!
Tomorrow my oldest granddaughter Kira arrives from NYC with great grandson Dante. Can't wait to see them. It will be his first visit to New Mexico. She came out every summer from the age of 3 1/2, until about sixteen and it was the happiest time of my year. Time marches on and a new generation will be here soon. He hasn't yet figured out what to call me and as far as I know I'm still greatgrammieinnewmexico. He and his cousin sang happy birthday (on a video post) to me recently using that long appellation. Maybe we will figure it out in the coming week while they're here. I'm thinking, GG. What do you think?

health news
Ron had a full body scan in early August and his doctors are encouraged. He's slowly gaining weight and spending more time in his studio every day. A very good thing. And I've had the help of a lovely man who has stepped in to do all the stuff around the property and the house that Ron hasn't been able to do for more than a year. Sean is a real treasure and managed to subdue the riot of weeds and grasses that had taken over the entire driveway and surrounding area. He removed a dead pine tree that we learned died after seven years because the plastic rope that held the burlap in place around the roots was never removed. We literally strangled the tree. Hopefully, we will plant another tree with a bit more knowledge this time. 

retreating more each day
I managed to get away to the New York area for a writing retreat in July. Also got to see the new Trade Center building and, in my opinion, it's beautiful. I was in Manhattan on a hot, humid, crowded day. I think the whole world was also there for the same reason.

I hope to get away again in September or October to visit friends and family and take a couple of solitary weeks for myself. I'm still aiming for Spring/Summer publication of my collection of essays and I have to get to work! The thing is that I really have to resume editing and rewriting or it won't happen. I don't seem able to do much at home at my desk where it is impossible for me to put aside diversions and things that have to be taken care of daily which include, among many other things, coffees and lunches with my friends! That's the good part and I won't list the bad ones. Ever hopeful, I'm expecting a general easement this Fall. And I will try to get back in the blog groove. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

On particularly bad days when I'm sure I can't possibly endure, I like to remind myself that my track record for getting through bad days so far is 100%.
           anon.