Sharing

After a day at work for Joe and a day of waiting for him to come home for Bella, they settle down in their favorite spot to stop and sit awhile.  Joe makes a fuss about whose chair it is and she turns around and wiggles a few times to find just the right way to view her world, but there is no question - it isn't his or hers, it is their chair. I wouldn't think of taking that place to sit! What furry friend shares your chair?

The Art of Making Lace by Tatting

Both my great grandmother, Ernestine M. Curley, and my grandmother, Mary Clyde Curley Terrell, kept samples of tatted and crocheted edgings and patterns for future reference, much as we keep printed patterns and directions today.  I do not remember my mother, Opal Terrell Teal, tatting, but she loved to embroider and crochet.  I have done my share of needlework through the years:  embroidery, cross stitch, crochet, and knitting but among my needlework supplies I count some of their handed down needles and patterns among my treasures.  In the first photograph, there are 4 of their edging patterns which I framed, among others.  The second row of lace above is tatted lace done by my great grandmother Ernestine.  The shuttle she used is shown in my hand in the photo below.

Tatting with a shuttle is the earliest method of creating tatted lace. A shuttle facilitates tatting by holding a length of wound thread and guiding it through loops to make the requisite knots. It is normally a metal or ivory pointed oval shape less than 3 inches long, but shuttles come in a variety of shapes and materials. Shuttles usually have a point or hook on one end to aid in making the lace. Antique shuttles and unique shuttles have become highly sought after by collectors — even those who do not tat.

To make the lace, the tatter wraps the thread around one hand and manipulates the shuttle with the other hand. No tools other than the thread, the hands, and the shuttle are used, though  a crochet hook may be necessary if the shuttle does not have a point or hook.netting and decorative ropework as sailors and fishermen would put together motifs for girlfriends and wives at home. Decorative ropework employed on ships includes techniques that show striking similarity with tatting.

Sewing instruction manual and sample, designed by Sister Mary Loretta Gately, as used in Sisters of Providence schools in the Pacific Northwest, 1908-1917
The Women's Museum, Dallas, Texas (special exhibit Women & Spirit: Catholic Sisters in America, 2009–2010)

Scattered Memories

I heard a loud crash early one morning last week and rushed to check on Joe, who was getting dressed.  Then I walked through the kitchen and front part of the house looking for damage.  One cat was sitting calmly on the back of a chair but the other cat hid for the rest of the morning.  I didn't have to guess which one had knocked a bowl of homemade pot potpourri onto our ceramic tile floor. Skye came to spend the day with me and as she helped me take this picture and sweep up the broken pottery and remains of dried herbs and flowers , we talked about the damage and how breaking something can make us sad.  She wanted to keep the broken pieces of the bowl and some of the dried rosebuds to put with her fairy garden supplies.  Then we swept the rest into the trash.

It was only after I looked at the photo that I thought more about why this dish of dried petals was special.
Every thing in the bowl was from our garden and had been added one at a time.  The tiny Katrina rose buds and petals from a fragrant Maggie rose and the yellow rose which clambers over an arch,  tawny, leathery Magnolias, lavender fronds, pieces of basil and rosemary, even a dried slice of Meyer lemon.  All were gathered and collected in a small hand thrown bowl fired in a speckled jade green glaze that I bought when we lived in Indonesia over 20 years ago. Some of the rose buds had been picked by little girls and proudly presented as a gift. Joe likes to bring me a flower or piece of herb when he comes in from the garden. It was a joint endeavor.

So I was sad, not for the things broken and scattered, but for that which they represented: the growing and choosing and gathering, the connection and love of my family. And once again, I know that I can let go of things, but that I keep the love.

Mignon and Mary Ann

                                                                  2013

Last week I had lunch with my friend Mignon.  We have been friends since 1947, which means 66
years of friendship! In the early years, we lived in the same town, Jacksonville, Texas - close enough to walk to each other's house for after school play or overnight.  We went to the same elementary school, West Side Elementary.  Between second grade and sixth grade, we had the same teachers, enjoyed playing with our pets and dolls, and even had our mothers make us matching outfits.  We "roasted" saltines over flashlights under the covers when I spent the night at her house.  We had twin baby dolls named Gwendolyn and Wendolyn and what seemed like an endless parade of kittens which sometimes got to wear the doll clothes. When Mignon's family moved to Houston during our 6th grade year, we began letter writing and occasional vists for a week or so in the summertime.  Mignon continued to live in Texas after college and marriage while I lived with my husband and family in Oklahoma, Oregon, California, and Texas as well as for some years in Indonesia.  Through all those years, we kept in touch with letters and infrequent visits, and now there is email!  There has never been a time we have been together that we don't just pick up where we left off, as only good friends can do.  As one friend remarked when I posted the above photo on FaceBook - "the smiles say it all!"

                                                                    1947