restingmotion

Monday Morning and a Dinosaur Weekend

Monday morning here.  As you can see, I am still not back on my previous schedule, posting early as I did when I lived in the Hudson Valley.  But at least I found my tripod.  Unfortunately I did  not manage to find it when I was wearing my fabulous new jeans, or my lovely new Lafayette 148 blouse, and I still have to figure out the light and/or buy a full-length mirror.  The mirror issue may be important.  

 

Anyway, there is not much new here:  BR corduroy pants, white JCrew perfect-fit tee, blue tunic/dress.  All posted before.  The shoes are relatively new, picked up one day when I was running errands and my shoes, which I had been wearing all fall, decided to stretch out so that I could not keep my heels in them as I walked.  Or perhaps my feet shrank, but I think that is unlikely.  Anyway, I was hobbling and shuffling, and I stopped in the only shoe store in Knoxville I have found to be even passably worthwhile and bought a pair of black clogs, these black clogs, and I've been wearing them ever since.  

 

But back to Monday.  For now at least, in this kind of mixed-up world of mine, I am happy for Mondays.  On Monday morning I become relatively off-duty for a whole day, after having only part-time caregivers on the weekend.  This was my own choice, having the weekend with G, and also the hope of occasionally spending some if with family, including that charming grandson.  But very often by Monday morning I am just tired, and more than content to sit in my office with a second cup of coffee letting my thoughts meander along. Monday morning is my time to think, to play, to read blogs, to take a breath before I resume unpacking.

 

And I am still unpacking:  the office is still a mess, and it can drive me to distraction. But I have cleared a small corner at least, and I can turn my chair away from my computer and look out the window, which has now been cleared, along with the cheerful corner bookcase, which I finally assembled, unpacked, and populated with cookbooks this weekend.

 

As you can see, the books did not all fit, and the collection was substantially pared down before the move (although I probably have an equal number on my Amazon wish list).  The overflow is stacked on the floor, where I am contemplating the possibility of a Sapien bookcase.  But there is time.  There are a good half-dozen books missing, not enough for a boxful, so I suspect they were slipped here and there into other boxes, hiding away in other rooms.  I will get to them, and assess the needs for overflow shelving once the unpacking is finished. The simple truth is that I will always have an overflow of books and piles are just a fact of life, so there is no particular rush.

 

It was not all work and unpacking this weekend, however.  Sunday we went off to an extravaganza of dinosaurs with step-daughter and grandson and had a wonderful, if exhausting, time.   There were all kinds of marvelous things, with models of dinosaurs both sweet and menacing, eerie lighting, and all kinds of marvelous buttons to push, buttons that could make dino swing his head, stare you in the eyes, move his hands or his tail, or even watch dino-ribs moving in and out rhythmically as he breathed.  Fascinating to a five-year old dinosaur fan.  Fascinating to grandmothers too.

 

I would have liked to take dino-photos, but my feeble iPhone attempts are basically laughable with all kinds of odd glowing colors.  Oh well.  I could have gotten the feel of the place had I taken the time with my bigger camera, but then of course I would have lost that grandma time.  So it is, and this is perhaps why I have never been a particularly good at the casual snapshot or the recording of family events, my personal sense that I can live the moment or photograph it, with the accompanying feeling that the photographs never quite make up for the memories lost.  

 

 

Reading Rundown

The trip to Texas was successful in that I was able to completely relax and just spend time with my mom in a focused way that has happened for many years.  Being the people we are, some of that time was spent companionably sitting and reading not-very-important novels. Here is a brief list of what I've been reading lately.

 

I did however, finish Nightwoods before I left.  I thought it was an excellent novel.  The main characters are really rather modest people, seemingly minor characters, the kind of people who are often overlooked or ignored, or who are just too often dismissed.  But as in life there is more to each character than meets the eye, if only one is willing to take time to see what lies underneath the surface. Frazier reveals his characters, along with the setting, slowly and resonantly and you come to know them and care about some of them much in the way you would people you have met and gotten to know over time.  It is a novel of character: of loss, of love, of courage.  The prose can be lush or flinty as necessary, but it is never overdone.  Highly recommended.

 

On the flight to Texas I read Diane Mott Davidson's Crunch Time, the newest in the series about the exploits of caterer Goldy Schulz.  It was enjoyable enough, but it didn't seem quite as humerous in its exploits of Goldy's fellow citizens as I remember the early novels being, or perhaps I just enjoyed Goldy's comments about her fellow Episcopalians.  Goldy reminded me of a Virginia Cary Hudson wanna-be, without ever quite pulling it off.  

 

On the flight home I read Stuart Woods' Grass Roots.  This was the first Will Lee novel I have read, although I have encountered Lee in several of Woods' other novels.   It was actually a bit more compelling than I expected, although some parts of the story line did seem incredibly far-fetched, and I enjoyed reading it.  It took me a little longer than my other weekend-reading, perhaps it was a bit more absorbing, and I finished it up yesterday afternoon.   I would say it was better than most of what I have read recently from Woods, but then it is not that new, and I just noticed that it was written 20 years ago, so that may be the explanation right there, but perhaps I will read some of the other Will Lee novels when I get my next entertainment itch.

 

Over the weekend I indulged in even lighter fluff, fluffy birthday visit reading:  Hotel Vendome and Happy Birthday by Danielle Steel.  Both perfectly nice and entertaining though repetitive and predictable, mostly read in snatches here and there, and they were perfectly well suited for that. 

 

And that leaves me with a book I actually read back in January, but never wrote about here, The Cry of the Go Away Bird by Andrea Eames.  This was another book with powerfully evocative prose and I wish I had written about it earlier, when I remembered the details more clearly.   It had been recommended to me as a good coming-of-age novel, and I suppose it is, but it did not really strike me very strongly in that sense, even though it is a powerful novel about a young girl whose world is being ripped apart as she is growing up.  But I didn't see Elise, the main character as really growing up in this novel.  She is a young girl trying to come to terms with a world she does not understand, and although that is a part of the coming-of-age theme, Elise is still a girl here, a girl with moments of profound wisdom, the kind of sharp wisdom girls have when they are on the cusp of verging into adulthood, and which they all too often loose.   When Elise leaves Africa she is still in the midst of this process of trying to find understanding and she is still a girl in waiting.  I do think this is one of the strengths of the novel.  One gets the sense of it being a remininscense, as if it is being told by an older Elise, looking back on her younger self, looking back with yearning and sadness and love.  

 

 

Texas Weekend

I'm in Dallas this morning.  Well, if we are going to be picky, I am actually in Garland, which is outside of Dallas.  The important thing is that I am not at home and that I have gone off, by myself, which is a big treat.  By the time you are reading this, my vocal chords will have somehow subtly picked up some inaudible hum in the air and my own soft Texas twang will have somehow errupted out of the deeper recesses of memory.  And I too, with the subtle shift in my voice, will also probably display a slight shift in my perceptions, a sublte alteration of being, as some basic familial patterning plays itself out and comes to the fore.

I flew in yesterday, a surprise gift to my mom, whose birthday is Monday. It has been far too long since I have been able to fly in and spend some time with her.  This weekend is all about family and mother-daughter time, and I didn't bring my computer with me, although I may finally steal a few minutes here and there and catch up with blogs and email on my handy iPad.  Otherwise, I'll be home on Wednesday.

 

How are you spending your weekend? 

 

 

photo of Dallas Skyline from here.

 

 

A Little Shopping

This hasn't been the best week, and blog motivation has been seriously lacking.  I think about things to post, but they all seem so frivolous at this point, and I haven't quite regained my focus, if there ever was any focus,  that is.   I am sure it has mostly just been in my head.  G has been particularly scattered.  I have been experiencing one of my periodic flare-ups of back pain and sciatica, a normal part of life for me since my 20's, and I am sure it is mostly due to a combination of stress, unpacking, heavy lifting, and not enough sleep or exercise.  Already I am on the mend, but at the end of the day, when I am tired and stiff, my patience has not been up to snuff, and I tend to beat myself up about it.  Hence no blogging.

 

But I am going to try.  

I've been doing a little bit of clothes shopping.  Even though I can sew, and fully intend to sew, the sewing room is nowhere near being functional and the simple truth is that I need some clothes.  Several of the things that I packed in my December suitcases are too big and I haven't gotten my own things unpacked because my focus has been on keeping G's life as smooth as possible, and having the rest of the house settled and operating cleanly before I turn my attentions to myself.  As I have noticed that a few things are too big, I have also begun to dread the unpacking and requisite new round of trying-on and sorting that this is going to entail.   But I've needed a few things to wear, mostly basic tops that fit, and more transitional pieces as the climate in Knoxville hovers far longer in those transitional seasons than did the climate in my previous abode.

 

Truthfully, I was initially appalled at the shopping choices available.  But I have since found a few things that I like including the standard chains:  J Crew, Banana Republic, a department store that carries good jeans and sportswear brands like Ralph Lauren and Eileen Fisher. I've picked up a few things, but I can't say that any of these lines will become the basic bones of my wardrobe.  That sewing machine was looking more and more tempting.    

 

Last week however I went to a Lafayette 148 trunk show and ordered several pieces.  There is a local store that carries and extensive selection, and has 3 trunk shows a year, where the entire line is available for order.  Gratefully, I found that the line fits me pretty well, both in size and cut, as well as in terms of having pieces that fit my own personal view of "my style".  Several pieces were ordered, including this pink dress, which I frankly think looked much better on me than on the model in this photo.  I had been looking for this dress since Duchesse sent me a link to it, but had been too unsure of sizing and fit to order it online, which proved fortuitous.  I had been looking at the black version, which may be more versatile, but when I saw this pink on me, there was no other choice possible.

 

There were several things I ordered which are not yet available on the web, things that will be arriving a bit later in the sping, including more of those cool mid-greens that seem to be so fashionable this year, and which are also so perfect for me.  But there was enough to wear now and into the spring, enough to tide me over, and enough to integrate into my own things once I start sewing, and altering things I own to fit.  

 

After all, at this point in my life I still maintain that I am not interested in making everything I wear, although I would like to make a fair amount.  Pants and skirts will be high on that list as I have finally figured out the basic fit issues and why even the best RTW pants and pencil skirts don't fit and what to do about making pants and skirts that do fit. With both, it is easier to make it right from the start than to alter after the fact (though I am likely to end up dong some of that as well).

 

 

 

 

White Blouse courtesy of Lafayette 148 New York

Pink Shirt courtesy of Ralph Lauren

Pink Dress courtesy of Neiman Marcus

 Gray tee courtesy of Lafayette 148 New York

 

Slow Progress on the Knitting Front

Have you missed the knitting?  So have I.  Somewhere along the line I stopped knitting, probably about the same time I stopped reading blogs and blogging, but it is all rather vague now.  

 

I started knitting a sock a few weeks ago and rapidly got about 5 or 6 inches along before I realized that it was too large for the recipient (G) and ripped it out.   It is now progressing at a snail's pace as I've just been too preoccupied elsewhere to give it the attention it deserves. The fact that I am knitting in 2x2 rib deserves mention as well; ribbing remains my least favorite thing to knit despite forcing myself to do it occasionally, and I am sure that when I am tired at night, endless ribbing does not inspire me to knit deep into the wee hours.

 

I did finish the purple sweater that was blocking in early January.  I am fairly pleased with the outcome.

This is basically a boxy sweater shape, inspired by a sweater I saw on the Eileen Fisher website.  I just wasn't sure about the actual size of the original, the actual color, or if it was as I imagined it so I knit my own, naming it Eileen in honor of the original.  By the way, I have since seen the original, and although it is lovely, and I would have worn it had I purchased it, I like my own Eileen sweater much better.

I wanted a lightweight mohair sweater with a bit of a melange effect.  I knit the body using a light fingering weight mohair (Classic Elite Giselle) held together with a lace weight variegated merino (Ella Rae Lace Merino), both in purple shades.  I love the way the two yarns worked together to form a soft blending of related colors.

 

I wanted the collar to be a bit more substantial than the light airy sweater, and I wanted solid color that harmonized with the colors in the sweater.  Neither of the yarns used for the body was appropriate.  Luckily Rowan's Kid Classic, an aran weight wool and mohair blend came in the perfect color and weight. After the body of the sweater was knitted, blocked, and assembled, I picked up stitches and knit the collar about 8 inches deep.

I love the generous width of the shawl collar and the sweater is lovely worn as shown in the first photo. However, that has been a little too warm for the Knoxville winter as I have experienced it so far this year.  More often I have just been letting it hang open, which gives it a nice drape, either with the collar rolled back as above, or just left flat.

'Though as you can see that didn't work with this particular outfit.

 

 

A Movie Date

One of the things I hoped for with this move was that we would find some ways to spend fun time together while doing so was still possible and feasible.  To that end, I had scheduled a couple of "togetherness times" during the week.  This week the plan was to go out to lunch and a movie.  We missed lunch.  I had D, our fabulous new handyman, installing towel bars, grab bars, and all kinds of other bathroom necessities  and the job took a little longer than I had hoped.  But we still made it out to a movie, and it was far easier than in our previous home with a shorter drive, closer parking, and a far shorter walk from parking lot to movie theater.  Also thrilling, to me at least, being the movie junkie that I can become when the opportunity presents itself, is that this particular theater seems to have a lot of coming attractions that I actually want to watch, probably far more than G can stand, so it is possible that I may sneak off for a cinematic knitting break on occasion.

 

I chose The Artist as our first film-foray mostly because it is a silent film and even with headsets, G has trouble following the dialogue in contemporary films.  Until recently, watching G watch films, I had not noticed how much faster we speak today, and how much faster the dialog is in new films as compared to older classic films from the mid-twentieth century.    I also thought that the fact that it was in black and white would appeal, as G was an avid amateur photographer not that many years ago, and his preference was always for black and white film.  

 

It was a good choice and we both enjoyed the film immensely.  Jean Dujardin is absolutely fabulous, with an incredibly expressive face, a great sense of commedic timing and command of body language.  One feels almost as if he is too much for today's movies, which is of course not true, and that he would have been a perfect silent film star as he performs beautifully, with both subtelty and an expansiveness that remains controlled and perfect even at those moments where the movie could have really run away into a roller-coaster ride of rampant melodrama.  I highly recommend the film as well as the way it rather slyly plays with the idea that it is a silent, black and white film, about a period when films were making the transition from silence to the "talkies".   It is also, apart from the purely charming story, and interesting study in how success, over-confidence and arrogance can lead one to resist change, with possibly devastating psychologic effects as well as how one must find new ways to define oneself in an ever-changing world.    I know, I know, I'm probably reading too much into a fun film to watch, but it is more than simply a remake of "Singing in the Rain", although the inspiration is obvious, and is well worth watching.   The final twist, the one that kind of pulled it all together for me, was at the end, when you learn that George Valentin's voice was fine (of course Jean Dujardin's lovely French accent helps), confirming that it wasn't the industry alone that pushed him aside, but his own difficulty in finding a way to reimagine himself.

 

 

Quiet Evenings

We are finally settling in a bit, and we have had a couple of peaceful quiet evenings.  There is still much unpacking to do but it is going a little bit more easily as G as getting settled into his new surroundings and is no-longer quite as confused and agittated. Anyone with any experience with Alzheimer's/dementia patients would aniticpate this, but even anticipated, it is still exhausting, and the first week was spent more in acclimating ourselves to our new space than in unpacking.  It is not the way I would have thought I would go about settling in but one must make the best of what curves life throws one's way.

 

Our first completely quiet, peaceful evening we sat contentedly reading in the new sunroom/sitting room, still a work in progress, yet transformed since my last post into a cozy nook.  Here is a picture of Sam, on the arm of G's chair, next to the book cart, which contains my current "to be read" pile.  I haven't unpacked the bookends yet, so various foodstuffs and cleaning supplies have been called into action to keep everything in place.

 

We had already been to the local library and G was reading Simon Winchester's Krakatoa, which has actually been on my to-read list for a while now.  I hadn't read anything for a couple of weeks, with all the stress of the actual closing and move, which is not a story I am in any way ready to share, and was perfectly content to settle down with some light mindless escapist reading, so I read Danielle Steele's novel, 44 Charles Street.  It was exactly what I needed, not very realistic, certainly not a book that will stand up to critical reading, but an enjoyable bit of escapism.  Considering that reading one of these novels only takes a couple of hours (you have to be willing to suspend disbelief), or about the same amount of time as a movie, I tend to find it more rewarding than the average movie simply because reading engages my imagination in a way completely different from what I experience when watching a film. 

 

Last night we spent another quiet evening, reading part of the time and then watching Morley Safer's interviews with Dolly Parton, Anna Wintour, and Meryl Streep on "60 minutes".   We split a new-to-me gluten-free beer, Green's Amber Ale, which was actually GOOD.  Yes, the emphasis was needed as too many of the gluten-free beers I have tried just take like amber colored sugar water with a hint of hops.   I'm not really much of a beer drinker, as I find it terribly filling, and half a bottle was perfectly satisfactory. It is nice to think that there is some beer to cook with again, however, and I see a rarebit or a carbonnade in our future. 

 

I started reading Charles Frazier's Nightwoods, and I although I am not far along, I am ready to sink into the author's beautifully rendered, resonant prose, which seems to perfectly capture the essence of a person and a place.  At the moment though, what resonates with me the most is this particular passage:

"You try your best to love the world despite its obvious flaws in design and execution.  You take care of whatever needy things present themselves to you during your passage through it.  Otherwise you're worthless." 

 

But perhaps this is just my all-too-human brain seeking connections and ways to tie the various parts of life into one continuous whole.