slowly she turned

Living the Slow life in North Carolina

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  • Wednesday, post-Tucson trip

    Doing a coffee pot post today before I blog my trip to Tucson. I’ll drop the personal details here from the past week or so then do a separate post for the pretty pictures.

    The days before my trip were consumed with getting the studio cleaned and the yard stuff moved to the shed part and carpet tiles laid down. This part of the project was a lot of fun because my favorite “toy” when I was little were these small plastic grids with color tiles to press into them, much smaller than Legos. I could spend hours making different patterns with these. So putting together different colors and textures of 24 inch carpet tiles was great fun for me and I think Sandy enjoyed it too. I know that both of us are very pleased with the result.

    We went to an art opening reception at Center for Visual Arts on Friday night that was fun and featured a couple of friends. One shared the print studio with me and another was my ceramics professor when I was at Greensboro College. This is where I believe we picked up the Covid cooties. One person we both talked to for a while wiped his nose and said, “Excuse me, I’ve a bit of a cold.” Whereupon, I scooted away quickly, but unfortunately not quickly enough. And just as quickly, I forgot about it.

    Anyway, I’ve had a LOT of problems with allergies lately, including a two week case of hives, and between that and cleaning a dirty, dusty, spiderwebby, recently repaired moldy spotted space, I assumed that the symptoms that began for me on Sunday were allergies. We still had energy to do errands on Monday. The symptoms were consistent with the many times I have tested negative for Covid. So on Tuesday morning, I took my temperature, had no fever, so off I went on my trip to Tucson. In hindsight, of course, I should have tested. I wore an N95 mask to ward off any cooties I might encounter, not realizing that I was the one carrying the cooties.

    As soon as the plane got in the air, my sinuses let go. It was as if a faucet turned on. I kept stuffing toilet paper into my nostrils and breathing through my mouth. When I got off the plane during my connection, the dripping stopped. Back on the plane, it started again. When I hopped into my friend’s car at the Tucson airport and she proposed a drive in the country on the way back to her home, I was feeling fine and all for it.

    That night I began feeling freezing cold and foggy-brained, and I realized that I was sick. I contacted the tapestry workshop people and said I’d be missing the first day, but I would assess the situation Wed. night and take a Covid test if I was still sick. I did, and it was positive. My first known case of Covid, and I had brought it to my friend’s house in Tucson. I missed the tapestry workshop entirely, and the people in the guild very graciously refunded my money without me requesting it.

    My immediate concern was for my husband, Sandy, who has many health concerns and is immuno-compromised. He was alone at home and yes, he was sick. I texted a group of women friends and asked them to be on the alert if he needed help. One of them volunteered to drop off groceries and meds on the front porch, so that helped him get through it.

    I had the generous care of my nurturing friend in Tucson, who was working from home and brought me food and hot tea and blankets and a water pitcher and tissues and of course, got sick herself, but not so bad. She went out and bought a fifth of Jack Daniels the first day and we tried our mothers’ old-fashioned cure for colds: hot tea, lemon, honey, and whiskey. I think it helped.

    My main problem the first two nights was coughing and the constant sinus drainage and so I tried to sleep sitting up and didn’t get much sleep for three consecutive nights. Once I went down on Thursday, I slept a LOT. I broke a fever. We had ordered out dinner from her favorite restaurant, Guadalajara, so we had chicken tortilla soup and really good Mexican food. My sense of smell left and so did my appetite.

    By Friday afternoon I was feeling better so we went to the San Xavier Del Bac Mission and walked around the outside. We bought Indian tacos from a food truck. The next day she tried to find an outside Indian craft event but it wasn’t there so she drove me around downtown Tucson and then up into the Santa Catalina mountains up to Mount Lemmon.

    On Sunday, we went to the outdoor Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, which had beautiful fairly flat trails through gardens and exhibits and a small zoo. But you’ll see that in the next post. We went to El Guaro Canelos for takeout and I had a Sonoran hot dog, which is a regional thing. Basically a beef dog wrapped in bacon with a Jalapeno sauce.

    Anyway, United was helpful, as they have always been to us, and once I figured out when I thought I caught the bug, I changed my flight to a shorter flight that was ten days out from first exposure. I explained why and they did not charge me a change fee.

    Monday I was at my friend’s house all day. I wandered around in the wash next to her house and I began a little tapestry with inspiration from the beautiful giant Saguaro cacti all around.

    The flight home on Tuesday was good and for most of it the plane was not full at all, so I had lots of room around me.

    And now I’m home, laundry done, coffee pot empty, and it’s time to catch up weaving on my tapestry diary.

  • Tapestry Diary 2025

    Tapestry Diary 2025

    I knew that I needed some kind of daily art practice, but I am terrible at sticking to it. In 2018 I wove a tapestry diary for the first part of the year, which started as daily, then became weekly, and then monthly, before I finally gave up due to depression that summer. I had serious decision fatigue, for reasons I won’t go into here. Based on how much I enjoyed making a Tunisian crochet temperature based scarf in 2019, I decided that temperature and weather was the way to go with a tapestry diary this year. As a farmer’s daughter who was always expected to give my father the weather report when he came home in the evening (in the days when we had 2-3 TV channels in rural NC, no cable or Internet), I have always been fascinated with and attuned to the weather.

    This month has been consumed with moving out from the studio downtown, moving stuff from the back building to the house, and in general, chores concerned with getting the back building repaired, cleaned, and turned into Slow Turn Studio. So I started the diary a bit late, but that’s okay. I’m not going to be OC about this thing. Now I am weaving the day’s weather data from the day before, measured at the airport at the Weather Underground website for consistency on the high and low temperatures. I use Weather Underground because it has a calendar of history data for some stations, and that’s handy when you need to catch up.

    I noticed that in 2019 I used white for all temps under 30F degrees. Ha! This year I would have a LOT of white in the tapestry already if I had chosen that. My chart for this year is more complicated, because it is a diary as well as weather related, and I wanted to add more colors for the lower range of temperatures.

    In general, the idea is to use the loose yarns in the box at the top of this post. Some are leftovers from past tapestries, others are old Paternayan crewel yarns from long long ago when I did needlepoint and embroidery, and came from my mother’s house. Some are dye samples or thrums (thread crumbs) given to me from other weavers. I’m going to use the colors in this box before I turn to my other tapestry yarns.

    So here’s how this is set up: the first row is 2025 in Roman numerals. After that, the edges are zig-zaggy and represent the earth, with whatever browns I pull out of the box. I’m not going to try to have straight edges because I don’t want long slits and I want it to look more organic. The first column of colors represent the high temperature of the day, and the third column of colors represent the low temperature of the day. The middle column is more flexible, representing the weather or whatever else I might feel like popping in there. So far, except for 1/20/25 I have used the weather. “pnp” means pick and pick, a tapestry weaving technique that creates vertical lines.

    There are three warps on this frame loom that are about six inches wide and the weavings will likely be around 28 inches long. We’ll see when we get there.

    Each day is 6 passes of weft. I started out doing more, and quickly realized that I would not have enough room on this frame loom if I made the days larger than that, so in the beginning I unwove and rewove until I got my ideas in line with reality. It works out, because even if I’m left wanting to do more, I have gotten my motor running and I go on to do other things. Motivation is difficult for me right now and this is part of the value of having a small, doable practice to begin the day.

    I shade the lines on the spreadsheet after I complete the weaving for clarity, especially when I was playing catch-up after a few days.

    If I’m traveling, as I will be doing next week (to Tucson, yay!) I’m going to chart the weather where I am, not here at home. It’s not a data set, like the scarf was. It’s a diary.

    Here is the tapestry diary up to 1/23/2025. I’m going to weave 1/24/2025 when I finish here, then I’m heading to the back studio to put down carpet tiles on that bare plywood floor. Soon I’ll have a space where I have room to work and play, with at least one large heavy work table. I am SO ready for a dedicated art space without the distractions of computer, housework, and cat. I hope it works!

  • Wednesday coffee pot post

    The biggest thing I plan to do today is stay out of my bedroom. As a recovering agoraphobic, it becomes my cocoon during times of great stress. When it is this cold those blankets beckon me. I bury my thoughts in reading novels and playing games and puzzles for those addictive dopamine hits. It helps (or hurts) that Pablocito pretty much spends all his time on my bed these days. He is much better and is eating canned food without too much complaint, and he has caught a couple more mice. But I know from experience that I am not cured of agoraphobia and I have to be ever vigilant not to get sucked back down into that hole.

    Anyway, I managed to take a shower last night and watched some reruns of Better Call Saul and Doc Martin on Pluto TV on my Kindle. Tonight I’m going to try to hang out in the living room with Sandy and watch Northern Exposure again. I’m in the middle of two very different novels about Ireland: This is Happiness by Niall Williams, and The Searcher by Tana French.

    I logged out of Facebook and Instagram for a week, and I deleted my Threads account. I am building community on Bluesky (@slowlysheturned) but I’m not leaving Meta yet, since I would lose valuable connections with friends, family, and artists from all over the world.

    I subscribed to Hearts of Space again and it has helped to keep the ambient music going, especially at the times when my husband is listening to political news. I’ve been a fan of ambient music since 1978 when I first heard the choral students at Governor’s School East practice some harmonies outside and it transported me to a peaceful place at a time when I was quite unhappy. Then when I worked for an local bookstore chain in the 1980s/early 90s, we sold cassette tapes by Windham Hill and I played them in the store often.

    My daily (sort of) practice now is to weave only six wefts across on a tapestry diary for each day, color-coded to reflect temperatures, weather, and occasionally mood. The last time I attempted a tapestry diary was in 2018, when I started out daily, then weekly, then monthly, and finally quit altogether as I had sunk into deep depression. I’m not saying that won’t happen again, as I am deeply depressed right now, BUT I have crocheted a temperature scarf before and really enjoyed it. My friend and teacher Tommye Scanlin published a gorgeous book about fiber art diaries called Marking Time with Fabric and Thread. It includes several friends of mine so it is a pleasure to use it for inspiration. More about the tapestry diary later, since this is really a catch up post about my life in general, and I have more to say about the diary.

    We are smack in the middle of a polar vortex right now, and the unusual part is that it is much colder and snowier to our south and east. We got the edge of the winter storm last night so the street and ground has a light cover of white. I’m keeping the faucets dripping inside as a precaution against surprise plumbing bills.

    It’s been mainly the mud from the melting snow and ice from a couple of weeks ago that has kept me from moving into the studio in the back. This North Carolina Piedmont red clay mud has sticking power. It’s one of the reasons that we have a local pottery craft center. After tracking it in over and over, I decided to wait. I’ll put down cardboard on the floor of the studio the next time I go out there, as we have in the back room of the house.

    But the little studio is going to be great, and I’m sure it will lift my spirits once we get it set up. The new roof is on, new insulation installed, the steps replaced, and the drywall ceiling patched and replaced where there were leaks. The shed on the side has a new frame, latticework, and doors. A lot of stuff inside can now go under the shed, because I stored yard and gardening tools and supplies inside when it got to be so viney and such a mess that it was difficult to get into. There was an extra pack of shingles so I put them down on the ground under the shed. It does need a new door and I have a ceiling fan that can be installed later.

    The next step, once I get more of the stuff out, is to put down carpet tiles on the plywood floor. After we got an estimate on carpet we decided that we could do this part ourselves. I mean, it’s gonna get paint on it anyway so why spend a lot of money? Mainly we need some padding for our backs and for warmth. Once we get the tiles down, we’ll add extra rugs or remnants or tiles on top where we’ll tend to stand.

    Sandy has laid claim to one corner, where he intends to set up his easel and paint. I’m planning to use the big heavy tables I found leaning against the walls behind the shelves (woo hoo!) and this will mainly serve as my book arts/mixed media/natural dye studio. I’ll take my small tapestry projects out there on the basis that I’m not going to store them or any yarn or fabric out there. They will need to come back inside the house the same day. The Macomber and Shannock looms stay inside. (I might sell the Shannock.) We have an oil-filled radiator heater, and I’ll probably replace the window unit air conditioner once it gets hot.

    The next thing I plan to do once I post this is weave yesterday’s weather entry on the diary, then I’m going to finish preparing the cartoon for my next tapestry. I’m going to warp the Mirrix and a small travel loom for the workshop I’m taking with Tricia Goldberg next week in Tucson. I need to prepare some sample cartoons for this workshop, and I thought I’d use sections of the larger tapestry I plan to weave. I’m staying with a dear friend of mine in Tucson, and this trip is a very bright spot on my horizon.

    I’ve been invited to participate in another exhibition at the Continental Club, but it has a Valentine’s Day theme, and I’m not sure I’ll do it this time. I didn’t sell anything at the Christmas one, but it was a lot of fun so I’m sure I’ll continue once I get my bearings again.

    I applied for Paper and Book Intensive, which happens in Michigan in May. Several years ago I applied and didn’t get in, so I’m not going to get my hopes up. I’m also signed up for Helen Hiebert’s “A Paper Year” ongoing classes, despite my dismal experience with online classes (wholly my bad) and my dislike for Zoom, but it’s monthly and if I’m not doing it by the end of February I’ll cancel it.

  • Goodbye, 2024 and Hello, 2025

    My annual round-up for the year of the time warp.

    I didn’t post much this past year, and honestly, it will probably fall even more to the wayside this year. I realize that social media has become more of my journal. However, a lot of it is that I just can’t face much reality anymore. Writing in depth about it is too much for my Vulcan brain and I wander off to some distraction before my head explodes. I thought that maybe I wouldn’t even write this post, but as usual, I found that I actually did a lot more this past year than I remembered. The fog of depression obscured it. I feel better now for writing it.

    January 1, 2024 was my first day of retirement – a long desired and anticipated date which was not so sweet since I felt like my hand was forced because my position was eliminated in budget cuts and moved to another department with different duties that I did not want at all. The work itself didn’t go away – it was instead passed over to be handled by my co-workers and faculty with no extra pay. So, there has been a lot of bitterness. I spent the month mostly trying to get my head around not being employed. Later I took some satisfaction in that the faculty passed a no confidence vote in the dean and the provost, which is a huge condemnation and does not happen unless there are egregious circumstances.

    One of the many student protests at UNCG in 2023 and 2024.

    In February I turned 63 and applied for Social Security. I began a 100 Day Stitch Meditation practice with Liz Kettle’s Facebook group that genuinely helped my brain settle down and got me back to stitching for simply the fun of it and as an artistic practice. You can see a slide show of most of them on the front page of this site. I didn’t write much in February, but during February through March I returned to the print studio at the Arts Center and finished a couple of books that I had taken apart and made a new one with bookboard pages that had an Asian theme from one of Sharon Payne Bolton’s online classes.

    In March, I took a marvelous class for a long weekend at John C. Campbell Folk School: “Decorative Wrapping on River Stones.” Over a dozen grace my front porch and elsewhere now. Another thing that I vow to get back to doing one day. And I forgot to post about it. Here’s a photo from that class.

    In April, I started a remote temporary job with Measurement Inc., a company that I worked for in person 20ish years ago. I found it not to my liking at all – all human elements seemed to have disappeared and I was not nearly as proficient at the work as I had been in the late 20th/early 21st centuries. However, I had a big trip already planned in May to look forward to and I had to quit the job early because of that. We took a quick weekend trip to Oak Island with friends and made a brief stop at Lake Waccamaw on the way back. I was worried about Diego, who, despite getting a clean bill of health in January, didn’t seem to be doing well at all.

    May brought a wonderful two week trip to London and Cornwall with my sister and my good friend. We are a trio of women who love to laugh and it worked out wonderfully for most of it. After London, we took a train to Penzance, then a train and taxi to Port Isaac (my sister and I are “Doc Martin” fans and it did not disappoint!), then a train for one night in Bath, then back to London to fly home. Lots of posts and photos on the link above.

    The girls in Boscastle on a rainy day in Cornwall.

    June was very, very sad. Diego was diagnosed with an aggressive salivary gland tumor and the surgery would have been extremely tricky and unlikely to be successful. He quickly reached the point where the only kind choice was to euthanize him. Sandy and I were wrecked.

    In July we took a short trip to Lake Waccamaw. I took a clay sculpture class at the Creative Aging Network and over the summer created a garden totem that I love.

    In early August, I got into Bryant Holsenbeck’s and Nicole Uzzell’s wire and paper sculpture class at John C. Campbell Folk School. It was focused on paper on wire armatures and papermaking and natural dyes. One of the best classes ever, and man, did I need some joy! I finished the squirrel that I had begun in Bryant’s 2023 class. When I called my art practice “Slow Turn Studio,” the emphasis is definitely on SLOW. I’d like to make more birds. Lots of photos at the link and there are three posts about it if you go forward and backward at the end of the linked post.

    I drove along the Blue Ridge Parkway from Boone to a true fiber arts retreat with my friend/teacher Edwina Bringle and other great weaving friends at Wildacres Retreat near Little Switzerland in mid-September. Most of us concentrated on tapestry. This was a repeat from the year before and a real treat. I returned by the Blue Ridge Parkway and made many stops along to the way, including a short hike at Linville Falls. And boy, was I glad that I did this, given what was to come in the near future.

    Late September brought the much anticipated trip to Scotland for Sandy and me, which we booked with a group tour for the first time. Unfortunately, Sandy took a nose dive off the bus on the way to our hotel on the first day in Edinburgh and we spent the rest of that day in the A & E (their version of our ER), which sent him out in a sling with a broken arm at the shoulder joint. After a couple of miserable days, we met with the group tour manager at the first hotel and we decided to give the tour a try. Long story short (which you can read about at the link above) we went on the train/bus tour to the Highlands for five days of the eight day tour before Sandy started feeling sick and had had enough, so we flew home early. I thought that he was an incredible trouper not to ask me to fly home after the first two days. Lots of great photos at the link, but here’s one from the Highlands tour.

    We came home in early October to witness my friends’ devastating losses in western North Carolina from Hurricane Helene. I participated in my across-the-street neighbor artist’s home show and sold several pieces of different media – tapestry, collage, ecoprints, and painting. On Halloween, on a creative and entrepreneurial high, I signed a three month lease on a studio in a downtown art collaborative. I had a few doubts about the unheated space in an old industrial building, but I really liked the artists I met there. I was chauffeur for Sandy’s many doctor appointments since he couldn’t drive.

    November brought that heartache and chaos of what the United States has become. I got sick with a virus that turned into bronchitis and wasn’t able to use the studio much, although I did finish the tapestry of Rascal and Sissy. Pablocito went to the vet for the first time in seven years. Our old Volvo that Tim gave us started hiccuping and those repairs and other issues they found ended up costing a bundle. Still cheaper that buying another car, I keep saying!

    In early December, Pablocito had all of his teeth behind his fangs removed. He had a lot of infection and for a while we were concerned that he wasn’t going to make it. So nearly all my energy went into making sure he had pain meds and got some food and water in him, even if it was by syringe. I’m happy to say that he seems fine now, back to his annoying destructive ways, and still very picky about his food.

    the first and only time he has gotten in my lap and gone to sleep

    On Dec. 13, I participated in a group exhibition at the Continental Club gallery organized by Preston Wiles. It was the most fun opening reception I have ever been to, with our talented friend Brad Newell’s String Thing duo playing music and two wonderful burlesque sets of Christmas music from Miss Candice. My art will be there until mid-January. Even if I sell nothing, I was happy to be part of this show. I wanted to see if any of my fabric weavings would sell.

    Even though I tried to close off the space in the downtown studio to insulate it more, and Sandy moved his painting stuff into one corner, I felt the bronchitis coming back every time I spent more than a couple of hours there. It was very cold and drafty, even on warm days outside. So I started moving all that stuff back home. I am cleaning out the back building because…

    In 2025, the back building is going to be repaired (beginning on Jan. 2) and it will be the new studio. It has a lot of rot and needs much repair, including a new roof and probably the ceiling, so I took out a home equity loan. I have used this space for a studio before, and it was one of the reasons I wanted to buy this house in 2001.

    So this will also be my annual “Looking Ahead at 2025” post because I honestly can’t picture much beyond this month. In late January I’m using my air travel miles to visit my friend who lives in Tucson, AZ, and I’m taking a three-day advanced tapestry workshop with Tricia Goldberg there.

    I plan to apply for part-time jobs, although I have signed up again for Measurement Inc. if nothing else pans out. I realized that with all these extra expenses that have popped up in the last two months, if I don’t make some extra money, I will not be able to travel and take classes, and that will make me miserable. I had registered for a couple of classes at Art and Soul in Harrisburg, PA in July with Seth Apter and Thomas Ashman, but I am considering canceling them and getting most of the money refunded. What I really, really, really want to do is to go to Morocco with Leighanna Light in late October. The future looks so chaotic and uncertain that I’m afraid to put down deposits or make plans too far out.

    However, I do know how fortunate we are. We may live in a mess, but so far we have a home that is paid for, we are warm and dry, and we are still well fed. We have enough money that we can go out to eat and enjoy a few events, like seeing Postmodern Jukebox a couple of weeks ago. We have hobbies that we enjoy. We have the lake that we can go to that costs us basically nothing. I do worry about the younger generations and the exorbitant rent and housing prices that they have to pay, and I don’t have to go into all the other awful things that are likely to come from the new fascist U.S. government in January. Everybody knows, even and especially those who voted for it.

  • Coffee pot post

    I’m curled up on the sofa in the front room after a sleepless night, determined that I will be awake to sign for this scheduled Fed Ex delivery if it is required. If I have to get up early, it’s nearly guaranteed that I won’t fall asleep until 3 a.m. or so. When I was growing up it seemed like all the old people got up before dawn. Why not me?

    Anyway, I’m looking forward to this package (maybe two packages) today. One is a wooden folding screen with a pegboard and shelves that I am putting in my studio to hide that huge water heater, and to use for display when I need one for a show. The other is something I’ve wanted for a long time: an electric fireplace heater. Then I can take this ugly radiator style heater to the studio. I am SO looking forward to getting back to the studio. We are supposed to get our first real cold weather this weekend, so I’ll find out how cold this unheated space is.

    hey, I like it!

    I haven’t been to the studio in about a week, and I didn’t stay long then. I had a relapse with my respiratory illness, and then my stomach went kablooey, and then this weekend I was dizzy for a couple of days. So, partly at the insistence of my friends, I went to the doctor on Monday and she prescribed me antibiotics. She thinks my bronchitis is the results of bad seasonal allergies, but I still think Sandy and I had some kind of virus. Anyway, it’s a relief to know that it isn’t pneumonia, which has been making the rounds in this area. Definitely a relief to see the light at the end of this bronchial tunnel, although I have thought I was at the end of it enough times that I am afraid to get my hopes up.

    Best to assume the worst and be happy when it doesn’t happen, I guess. Not a positive approach, but a practical one.

    I took Pablocito to the vet yesterday and he handled it really well. He let her look at his teeth and she said that his gums look much less infected. He’ll still be getting almost all his teeth extracted on Monday morning though. He’s almost a different cat now that he is on pain meds, and it makes me feel quite guilty that I waited so long to take him to the vet.

    We will get the old Volvo back from the shop today. It needed a lot of work and will be expensive, but at least Sandy can drive again so having two cars will make him feel less trapped in the house while I’m in the studio. He’ll start PT for his shoulder soon. Funny thing…he fell yesterday and landed on it, not hard, but he said it felt better AFTER he fell on it. I worry a lot about him falling and that’s one reason I don’t like leaving him alone any more.

    Speaking of which, I will be visiting my friend who lives in Tucson at the end of January. I saw that Tricia Goldberg was offering an intermediate/advanced three day tapestry workshop at the guild there for a reasonable price, and I have the miles to fly there practically free, so I have a double joy trip to anticipate! Tucson is a totally new area of the country for me to visit and to be able to do it in the company of the Fabulous ZhaK warms my hurtin’ heart. Now I’ll need to decide what I want to focus on in the workshop. The tapestry on the Mirrix will be cut off very soon, maybe within the next day or so!

    Lots of minor life annoyances have peppered a disasterous month, but other than the occasional sleepless night, I’m handling it okay. I mainly try not to doomscroll too much, but I’m keeping up with the news. I opened a Bluesky account to follow the journalists and others there at slowlysheturned.bsky.social. If you’re there and give me a follow, I’ll probably follow you back, but expect no tolerance for MAGAs and more sweary political posting. I have zero patience any more for bullshit from any direction. I blocked someone who fussed about my profile pic where I held a glass that said “Shalom, y’all” on it. Really, people? Makes me want to become a hermit.

    Reading: finished “Tom Lake” and “Rebecca.” I enjoyed them both, but “Rebecca” surprised me. I thought I had read it long ago, but apparently not. For the first half of it, I was bewildered and irritated. What a drag, being hauled through the imagined slights, gossip, and paranoia of this neurotic, low esteemed mind. But suddenly, ah! I couldn’t put it down. 

    Now I have delved back into the Plantagenet historic fiction of Sharon Kay Penman with “Lionheart,” but I’m tempted to put it aside for a shorter, lighter read.

    Back to art posting soon.

  • hoo boy

    what to do what to do what to do

    A little over a week since the beginning of the end of human history, I am emerging from a fog of fever and phlegm: the virus that hit both of us and numbed us both somewhat for over a week. Sandy less so; his coughing has not been as out of control and his anger not as tamped down. With him still under doctor’s orders not to drive and me spending most of my time in bed trying to snatch a few hours of cough-free sleep here and there, except for the loud fits of hacking, it’s been a quiet week at Casa O’Neill. There’s been much consumption of canned soup and hot tea.

    I guess I actually had more hope than I thought I had.

    Now, as things begin to penetrate a little more, my INTJ brain is searching for all the contingency paths forward, but I see nothing as safe.

    I read a little bit of Heather Cox Richardson or Joyce Vance every day or so to keep up. Maybe a little Wonkette. A little bit of the Guardian US. I say to myself that I’m going to let all the political news go. My therapist would suggest this. I haven’t made an appointment with her because 1) what’s the point and 2) I can’t talk without starting a coughing fit.

    Big trips abroad are likely out for the foreseeable future as we reassess our finances and wait to see what happens. Sandy has not depended on his Social Security but I have. I had a great year as far as travel this past year, so I am grateful that I got to see the Scottish Highlands and Cornwall at least one more time. It may well be that we will be fine staying here in our little paid-for Craftsman bungalow in blue Greensboro, NC, where the climate is mild compared to most other places. It may well be that we are already in our final destination. Acceptance is going to be an ongoing mission.

    In a fit of positivity on Halloween, I signed a three month contract for a small studio space in 205 Collaborative downtown, an artist co-op in a former industrial building. It’s $200 a month and I’m committed through the end of January. I love the funky industrial vibe there and the diversity of artists, and it is a short drive or bus ride or doable walk away. I spent four blissful days cleaning the space, moving stuff upstairs to it, and weaving on my cat tapestry, which I am now thinking of calling “Tangled.” I only spent a few hours each day because I was being careful not to hurt my back and because I am the driver in the family until Sandy gets cleared for take-off.

    Then this virus hit on late Monday last week – Sandy already had a milder version of it. Why I got hit with both barrels, I don’t know. A side lesson in acceptance…I finally had to accept that I didn’t have control of this thing and it’s not going to respond how I think it should and it will take it’s own sweet time, thank you very much, until it decides that it is done with me. Humbling me further.

    I had to reschedule Pablocito’s vet visit, the first in seven years, from last week to yesterday. I wasn’t totally surprised that he needed dental work, but the extent of it shocked me. He was still eating and he didn’t have bad breath. Dr. Hunt says that all of remaining teeth have to come out except for his fangs. She will sew flaps over his gums. Poor fella’s rejection of every new food after a couple of days was that he would associate the new taste with pain. The good thing is that other than that, he is as healthy as I thought he was. It’s gonna be expensive.

    So that’s scheduled just before Thanksgiving. He needs to wait two weeks after his vaccinations, and I have a morphine-based pain medication to give him until then. We’ll be in Greensboro for Thanksgiving and possibly Christmas, I don’t know. Usually we spend Thanksgiving at Lake Waccamaw.

    I got a email from John C. Campbell Folk School saying that I didn’t get chosen for a scholarship again. I may stop trying there and concentrate on other opportunities. They probably don’t want retired white women – they have enough of that demographic.

    I’m going to have a few pieces in Preston Wiles’ Emerging Artist Show at the Continental Club mid-December through mid-January.

    There’s an art retreat in Alexandria in late April that Leighanna Light, one of my favorite artist/teachers, is going to be at. That’s a nice train trip for me and I may try to make that happen. I’ve already paid for classes with Seth Apter and Leighanna’s husband, Thomas Ashman, at Art & Soul in Harrisburg, PA in mid July. That’s is somewhat refundable, if I have to do it, but since it is money spent and I have enough United miles to fly there, I may go ahead and do it and stay in a cheap hotel.

    I’ve had to delete all the enticing emails about other art retreats – the bombardment at this time of year is titillating and disheartening at the same time.

    Books: I finished reading the excellent “The Weight of Cloth” by my friend Dee Mallon, which told the story of a couple of decades in the life of Eliza Lucas Pinckney and the slave women around her through their voices. A tricky subject for a white writer to tackle, and yet she did it with poetry, grace, and didn’t skimp on the sorrow and brutality. I zipped through “Fourth Wing,” a sexy fast-paced fantasy novel by Rebecca Yarros, the escapist reading I needed during the past week. I’m reading “Rebecca” by Daphne Du Maurier, which I could have sworn that I had read before, but now I don’t think so. My new Libby check-out is “Tom Lake” by Ann Pratchett.

    Still watching reruns of “Northern Exposure” but I can’t focus on any other movies or TV. Will I ever get that back?

    I don’t think I’ll make it to the studio today. I did manage to go for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon and weave. It was a bit chilly and reminded me that this space is not heated or air conditioned, and I’ll have to lug a heater up there on the next trip. We’ll pick up Pablocito’s pain meds, our meds, and maybe some take-out food and set my sights on tomorrow.

  • Sunday morning coffee pot post

    Now that I’ve finished my posts about our trip to Scotland, and I highly recommend that you scroll to the bottom of that linked page and begin at the beginning, I can get on with journaling my regular life here in North Carolina.

    A week after we returned from Scotland, I participated in a group show across the street at Kevin Rutan’s house and studio. Kevin is an abstract painter who has a large clientele and I angled for years to get him to let me set up at one of his home shows. Lately he showed appreciation for my collage work and I’ve gone to him for advice for things like presentation, etc. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that he finally had a group show and asked me to be part of it with him and three other artists. He advertised it heavily, including a full page ad in the local magazine. I had a variety of work to show and sell, and I sold a bit of each kind of media. It was a success and Kevin mentioned having Jeanne, who makes incredible ceramics, and me do it again in spring.

    I sold the two framed leaf prints, a woodcut print, two collages, a small abstract painting, and a small weaving.

    “Garden Hours” – sold!

    With that and my anxiety about politics and Sandy’s broken arm, I haven’t gotten any artwork done since the trip. I did do a stitch meditation the night before last. For over a week, I couldn’t use my kitchen much because a critter of some kind (I suspect a chipmunk) got under my kitchen cabinets and died and the funk was overwhelming. Thankfully the weather was pleasant so I had the doors open and fans pushing air through the house and I simmered cinnamon on the stove. My studio is next to the kitchen and there is no wall between them. There was nothing else I could do about it. We went out to eat a LOT and I was grateful for our screened front porch. We also had to get a plumber to fix a leak under the sink and now the Volvo is in the shop because the turn signal handle broke and is hanging beside the steering wheel. My phone is not working well, so I didn’t get the call that it was finished until after they had closed for the weekend. I wonder if I need to upgrade my phone.

    I seriously thought about searching for a part-time job after I came back from Scotland, but I’m going to see how it goes for a little longer, since I am now the house chauffeur.

    Sandy and I both had appointments. I got a cardiac scoring scan and finally assented to trying statins for my high cholesterol, although from the low cardiac test score I don’t think the results looked that bad. Sandy sees an orthopedic doctor tomorrow, almost exactly a month after he broke his arm at the shoulder. They couldn’t do much for him other than put him in a sling and tell him not to move it. After we see this doctor he will find out about physical therapy, which he needs for other parts of his body other than his arm and shoulder too, but he has to voice that to the doctor. I’ll probably go in with him if he will let me. He has been letting me go in with him lately. He is not able to drive and it is his dominant arm as well. Most of the time he has refused to take even acetaminophen or ibuprofen, much less the codeine the Scottish ER doctor provided him, but now he says that the pain has gotten better. He is quite stoic.

    So now the plan is to finish my tapestry, get back on my stitch meditation daily practice, and maybe making some more paper pulp sculptures. My friend Susanne has a Hollander beater and can make the overbeaten pulp, which is really expensive if you buy it. She is very motivated to do it. I still have some small amounts in the bottom drawer of my refrigerator that I added alcohol to to cut down on the fermented smell. I’m eyeballing a couple of random weave baskets that I made long ago and thinking about dipping them, and I’d like to make some more birds.

    Reading: Finished “Penmarric” by Susan Howatch, a really great novel that takes place in late 19th-20th century southern Cornwall. Started “The Weight of Cloth” by my friend Dee Mallon, and it is a very good, very sad novel about an 18th century plantation near Charleston told from four different narrators. She has a poetic way with language. I’m almost ready to tackle another Sharon Penman historical novel, “Lionheart,” whose story “Penmarric” parallels in the 20th century.

    Next door at our former property, the landscaping company has cut down all the camellias, and several trees. It’s a shame about the camellias but I am not too sad about it because I’m just happy somebody is doing something, anything, about that lot. We won’t have as much shade but at least the solar panels will get the sun that they got when we first installed them. I talked to the landscapers and they are leaving the yellow maple that grows right on our property line and the area where our cats were buried when we lived there. They are trying to get rid of the invasive vines and the English ivy. Good luck to them because I never could.

    Heigh ho, onward! Alan Rickman said “heigh ho” a lot in his diary. Gosh, I really do need to watch those Harry Potter movies, don’t I? Instead we are rewatching “Northern Exposure” and what a pleasure it is!

    Okay, time to weave.

  • Sunday morning brain sweep

    I wanted to sleep a little later, but I really didn’t need to. Pablocito convinced me of that with his loud meowing. He is a pain in the ass early in the morning and he is the most vocal kitty we have ever lived with. However, he has settled in to curling up beside me in bed sometimes and has claimed the spot on the bed that he always wanted.

    We still miss Diego. It’s been almost four months since we let him go. We have talked about getting Pablocito a companion after we returned from Scotland and after the election (who knows if we liberals might need to flee the country!). I don’t know. If we do, it will be an older female cat that an elderly person has had to relinquish through moving or death or illness. I’m hoping for a black cat, since I haven’t had one since childhood, or an orange cat, but the right cat will show up at the right time. Just like Diego and Pablocito did in 2013. Just like Theo did in 2009.

    Right now, like a lot of people, I’m just hanging in there to see if Americans are going to come to their senses on Nov. 5. We will go to early voting this week. We’ve become big fans of Kamala. Sandy went to one of her rallies while I was at Wildacres in September and came back very energized. My retirement savings are doing very well in the stock market. I’m not sure that I understand why some people are blaming Biden for inflation when it began under Trump, is worldwide, and corporations have been raising prices despite major profits, but logic has taken a vacation from their brains, apparently. It has mostly made me extremely sad. How do people live with these thoughts in their head? This violent rhetoric that has caused real harm to real people? Do they think that deporting immigrants will LOWER food prices when most of our agricultural and food processing workers are immigrants?

    And women’s rights. My God. I have two friends (that I know about) who had to have abortions or die. Their babies were dead or not going to live. They wanted those babies very much. I’ve had other friends who had abortions because their economic and personal lives could not support having a baby at that time. I never wanted a child, and if I had become pregnant, I would have been a terrible mother. I would have had to consider the choice. But the reasons don’t matter, really, so much as the basic fact that abortion is health care and shouldn’t be up to government or religious institutions.

    It is all such a mystery and the dissonance is making this half-Vulcan mind hurt.

    It is the meanness that has been revealed that hurts the most. And from some of the people I knew in my past that I thought were smart and kind, or at least intelligent enough to look at the evidence and think through it.

    Enough of that. Maybe writing it out will let me sleep more soundly tonight. I have to say that retirement has helped with my sleep problems so much. Not having to get up at a certain time when I was awake until 2 or 3 a.m. has been a godsend to my health, and I’ve actually been able to get to sleep by midnight and then get up at 7:30 or 8 without a problem. When I do have to get up early for an appointment, I still get anxious and find myself reading a book at 3 a.m. to get to sleep, otherwise I toss and turn, worrying about insomnia, which of course makes it worse. At least now I know that I can take a nap if needed.

    Now that that’s out, I think I’ll start another post.

  • Saturday Catch-up Post

    Before I blog our trip to Scotland, let me take a few moments to process some of what has happened in North Carolina while I was gone.

    Hurricane Helene caused catastrophic damage to a huge area of one of my favorite places on Earth – the mountains of North Carolina. I have friends and family who still don’t have power after nine days, and many people are trapped in places where the roads and bridges have been destroyed or made impassable. A huge loss will be felt in commerce, food production, the arts, and technology. Many lives have been lost and we still don’t know the extent of it. Entire small towns have been wiped away by floods, landslides, and mudslides. I-40, one of the main east-west roads through the mountains, is predicted to re-open a year from now.

    I feel fortunate that we were not touched by this massive storm in Greensboro while we were gone on our Scotland trip.

    I will be grieving for my beloved Appalachian mountains. They will eventually rebuild and recover, but it will take billions of dollars and much time. Some places will never recover.

    And climate change means that this >1000 year event could happen again.

    I treasure the time I spent at Wildacres Retreat near Little Switzerland and Spruce Pine less than one month ago, and viewing the lovely scenery along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

    If you’d like to help in the recovery, I believe that the best way is to research reputable charities and organizations and give money, rather than buying supplies to send to them. They don’t need old clothes. I have a friend who is concentrating on helping farms and livestock producers now, but she has delivered supplies and found that her big truckload could only go so far, at which point the supplies were loaded on smaller trucks, and eventually on ATVs or mules to get to the most remote places. Helicopters have been doing much rescue and supply drops as well. Army and National Guard troops from several states have been deployed.

    Be ultra careful about what you read about on the Internet. Much disinformation is out there and the usual bad actors are lying their asses off for political gain. Con men will con – sociopaths have no shame.

    Now I plan to work on my blog posts about Scotland, probably a day or two at a time and back dating them to the date when it happened. I’ll share them on my Slow Turn Studio Facebook page. I also have a group art show coming up in a week that I can now continue to get ready for, although I’m mostly ready. As you will read in the travel posts, I am also a caregiver now until my husband recovers from a bad injury, so I have housecleaning and driving to do. It’s all doable. We both feel lucky in comparison to others right now.

  • Leaving Scotland, Oct 2-3, 2024

    In the morning, I went down to have breakfast and say goodbye to the members of our tour group. The news was on TV there and I was once again swept away with grief about what was happening to my friends in the path of Helene. One person who lingered at the table beside me was a woman who I had talked with a lot during our trip. She made a crack about Biden and I knew for sure then that she was MAGA. We had studiously stayed away from talking politics during the trip.

    So when I rose to go upstairs, we hugged, and I said to her, “I gather from what you said that you are a conservative.” She said yes. “Well, you may have guessed that I am very liberal. And what I hope that we can both take away from this is that we got along very well. It gives me hope for the future,” I said.

    We hugged, we talked for a while longer, and then I took my leave of the group. Sandy, of course, was now feeling better, but the die was cast and the tickets bought. We left Inverness on the train.

    The ride through the Cairngorms to Edinburgh was beautiful. I took a two minute video at the highest point on the rail line. I’ve always been a fan of being able to see the bones of the earth, even though I hate to see humans strip it of trees. It’s one reason that I love to go west. Maybe it’s because I’ve always lived in very green North Carolina.

    We got off the train at Haymarket and almost immediately got on the tram (Edinburgh’s Metro) to the airport, where we stopped at the disability assistance office because I was looking for a bus stop to the hotel that was no longer there. This was a fortunate stop, because they were of great help that day and the next. A staff member wheeled Sandy back to the new bus stop, and told us what to do the next day for assistance. We stayed in a nearby hotel that night.

    At Edinburgh airport, the disability assistance folks were kind and helpful. We were taken to a lounge just for people with disabilities in the heart of the airport, and when the time came to board the plane, Sandy was wheeled to the gate. He was somewhat resistant to all this, since he hates to be waited on and wants to do everything himself, and that attitude made us fight off and on throughout the day. However, it was necessary, and he finally accepted that. The last thing that we needed was for him to fall again, and it was painful for him to walk more than five minutes so he was very slow.

    United Airlines and the gate agent at Edinburgh saved the day for us by moving someone on our row to another window seat and so for the long flight to DC we had the middle seat empty and Sandy did not have to worry about getting his broken arm bumped. United had given us Economy Plus seats for the whole trip at little extra cost. His cold was progressively better while I started to feel it.

    Wheelchair assistance at Dulles and Newark was a much different experience. At Dulles, at least, the assistant who was ordered ahead of time was at the gate and extremely helpful in getting us all the way through customs, picking up and rechecking our luggage, and making our connection with a little time to spare. I was practically trotting along behind he was moving along so fast. I made a much needed stop at the bathroom and the assistant hit Sandy up for a tip. Sandy only had a twenty dollar bill and gave it to him. I came back and the assistant was hurrying away. It pissed me off that he pressured Sandy when he was vulnerable, but in hindsight I have to admit that his help was worth a $20 tip.

    At one point when we thought we might miss the connection we discussed leaving the airport and taking a train to Greensboro. It would cost us more but it would have been about the same amount of time to get home and would have been more comfortable. I mean, it’s insane to have to fly in the opposite direction to catch another flight home, but that’s how it is sometimes.

    On this flight to Newark, Sandy was on the aisle and I was in the middle so he had to be vigilant about his arm. When we exited, the help we had been promised at the gate was not there and the gate agent made many calls. Finally when it appeared that we would miss our connection there if we didn’t get help immediately, he stepped out and snagged one of the assistants wheeling an empty chair going by, and it was another mad dash through the airport and over a shuttle bus but we made our flight home to Greensboro. We would never have made that connection had we tried to walk it, and I was getting weepy at the thought of having to spend the night in Newark and trying to get home in the morning.

    Once we got home, Pablocito was so very happy to see us and he has stuck to me like glue ever since. I wish that he would pay attention to Sandy, but he has made it clear that I am his person. I suppose it is good that Sandy doesn’t have a cat pawing at his arm and jumping on him the way that Diego did, but I know Sandy needs the love of a furry feline.

    Now we are concentrating on getting Sandy healed up.