Friday, October 30, 2015

I'm so excited to have about ten blog posts queued up in my head:


Change in topography (creating altitude in our mind)
On top of our hike

  • Trips out of town to altitude, hills and bike able cities 
  • Long time dear friends
  • Cycling with a wide open smile
  • Co-ops elsewhere
  • What is a Co-op?
  • Local Yarn store Love
  • Time with friends
  • Social media time-out 
  • Great food and our Sugar Beet co-op. 
  • Yarning up a storm.  
  • The season has been incredibly beautiful.
  • Time Change
  • Indigenous Peoples Day & other Fall Celebrations
  • Local Field Trips 







On my hike
That said, it's another beautiful day and I always want to pedal somewhere, anywhere, especially after a trip to Colorado.  So, instead of wrapping my brain around writing and formatting a blog post, I'm out there for one last day of glorious blue sky and yellow leaves.

 And you, LF?  What's up in your world? Taking time to assign significance to the things that matter to you?  Are you making an effort, even in the smallest fashion, to change the heart and mind of at least one person in your community?  Are you eating something whole and amazing?  Are you outside?  Are you gazing into the eyes of your child, your friend, an animal? Are you taking the time to savor our time here, today? If that's not possible today, then I hope sooner than later. One of the few things we can hope to have access to is stillness, quiet, air and our own thoughts.


Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Nothing Time.

A few days ago, a friend complimented me (okay, on Facebook) for being inspiring, curious, and creative. I pridefully gloated for a few minutes, and soon after shuffled up to bed, because I love to experience flow by guaranteed Nothing Time.  Nothing Time as in, slowly transitioning from activity to activity, waking up slowly to experience daybreak and dreamtime, gazing outdoors or walking the neighborhood, catching myself with time that is not accounted for: unplanned time.

Not Nothing Time: checking email or smartphone, cleaning, doing laundry, reviewing and creating a calendar, sitting in traffic,  etc….Want more Nothing Time? Snatch it when it appears.  Nothing Time is the sort of time that we absolutely need to have if we want to foster our own creative impulse.  Without a moment of wondering…hmmm….now what? It all becomes the stuff of obligation.  Living an artful life is a balancing act in itself.

Granola, Country style jumbo batch.

Recently, my inspiration comes from a lot of good old fashioned Home Economy.  I'm delighted to throw myself out there as a beacon for friends who want to slow down and learn how to knit, make granola, bake a pie, or walk the neighborhood while chatting with a friend.  I love to encourage others to make/build/do.  I know that when I see someone else creating something I'm inspired and heartened. As I've indicated many times, the Unencumbered Woman is a mind-set, not an end product.  I'm fortunate in my life right now to have carved out ample Nothing Time.  Hardly true for many, and not always true for me, but when it's there….snatch it!

Madelinetosh Sock yarn daffodil toe-up socks.  Fresh off the needles and ready to wear.


Pumpkin pie…must be Autumn.
And then there is mealtime.  The benefit of a family meal has been well documented, and it's quite evident that sharing meals with friends and extended family is one of life's great pleasures.  That said, I hope that in your pursuit of nothing-ness you take the time to eat a beautiful meal solo whenever you are able.  I've got a stack of books for reading during mealtime, and it's always a pleasure to make a gorgeous plate and look out the window while eating a complete meal.
I can brag about my Nothing Time, but I must confess to being an insomniac-type person. At best, my late night sleep is inconsistent.  It's in the late dark hours that my mind races recklessly.  I have many methods of dealing with sleeplessness, and this week I was lucky to be so consumed with a book that I replaced the batteries in my little night reader as a counter to wakefulness. I savored some chapters in Joyce Carol Oates' newest book, The Lost Landscape.  I try to not miss anything Joyce Carol Oates publishes (not easy), but I do my best to follow my favorite author.   Rarely does Joyce Carol Oates share her personal stories, which makes this compilation of memories all the more precious.  In her tales of growing up in rural upstate New York, Joyce Carol Oates conjured up images that stir my own passion for practicing old crafts and home skills. In the spirit of Home Economics, rest, creativity and endeavor, I note a few takeaways from my reading: 
On insomnia: "by day the obsessions of the insomniac fade like screen images when the lights come on."

On housekeeping: "For what is housekeeping but small simple finite tasks executed with attention, care, love."

On needle arts (to Mother): "You tried to teach me to knit, and to sew, without great success…you had more luck teaching me to cook, or at any rate to prepare meals." 

And so I travel a week full circle, trying to curate an artistic life while remaining engaged with my community, fostering health and stability in my home, and nurturing my own talents and passions.  Each piece contributes to heart and head that are well enough to reach out to others and try to make something work.  Each piece contributes to another day of calm in our own home.  Each piece is a bit of battling against a tremendously disturbing and chaotic world.  Each day, I try to forge forward so that my own soul stay afloat and I may share with others. 

Friday, September 25, 2015

HARLEQUIN AFGHAN…or….relationship advice.

"Come on, here's the camera, take a few shots before you leave!"
Blocked & positioned on matching rattan furniture.

And it's off the hook, assembled, complete. The Harlequin Afghan, finished.  I blogged about this piece just days ago, and before that, a few other times.

What to say, now?  Perhaps an homage to the sort of playing with cameras that we enjoy…or at least I enjoy, with the indulgence of my family members.  Peter is responsible for this collection of KSN photos in the back yard, modeling the afghan as wrap/cape.



blocked, ready for use.
 Every once in a while I start to wonder if we ham it up for the camera a little too much. After all, some of us are not getting any younger.  Then again, it's terrific fun, especially for the self-absorbed.  I'd also dare any of you, LFs, to do the same.  Why not?  In this instance, I'm rustling up the attention of my long-suffering spouse.  One of the remedies to long term relationship blues is to simply ask for attention.  It's so easy for us to focus lots of energy on self, on kids, pets, work, house, and forget about each other.  So, on a Friday morning when I ask my spouse to take a few extra minutes to shoot these photos, I'm asking for attention, interaction, a laugh or too, and, thanks to the technology, a memory.
"This is going to look fabulous. I can wear it wherever I wish!"
 Somebody warned, in an earlier post, that this afghan is too gorgeous to not convert to a wearable item.  Now that it's finished, I sort of agree.  It's main purpose will be to adorn my mid-century rattan couch, but whenever the fancy hits, I think I'll break out the "Harlequin Cape". why not?  One hundred percent worsted wool, it's soft, not too scratchy, and warm.  I'm fond of the colors. Chartreuse, coral, black, grey, white. Great midcentury colors, still classic today.  I'm wild about the juxtaposition of classic vintage detail with modernity.  In this case, the whole set-up looks hopelessly modern.  The Harlequin Afghan time traveled to today and got stuck in a selfie-shoot and an outdoor affair.
"Go ahead. Just try to tell me what I can and can not wear!"
And so we have it.  I can't help but try to synch the piece up with a pop song, and for some reason Hall and Oates comes to mind, again and again.  If you see the cape around town, you'll know who it is.  You'll also know what it is.  And if you see me running/riding/sitting with this cape wrapped around my shoulders, you might even hum a few lines from a Hall & Oates song:
"It's up to me, what will be…"


"She's gone." 

"What went wrong?"



"Face ain't looking any younger, now I can see, love taking her toll on me…"
And to quote the photographer: "I like seeing you argue with the camera!" There is usually a fair amount of arguing, but not without it's fun. Next installment of yarn madness, nobody knows.  But there is a small chance that it will be painstaking, unique, and possess bit of whimsy. 


Saturday, September 19, 2015

In which an eternal project nears completion…or… I'm gonna make an afghan, "Just Because" I can.

 
Can you say 1950's?
 I'm obsessed with a lot of things, and vintage afghans are right  up there with jigsaw, crossword puzzles, and needlepoint. It takes a yarn goddess special personality to move up from the smaller items that might adorn oneself in the outside world to making giant pieces that take forever to complete.  A few of the afghans I've finished have the added status of mind-numbing details.  My current afghan project entails the crochet construction of one hundred-eleven small-ish diamonds,  sewn together, painstakingly, by hand (naturally).

This afghan is exciting, also, because it is one of the patterns in an old book that was part of my mom's collection, ca. 1956, called Modern and Traditional Afghans to Knit or Crochet.






Mom kept everything in mint condition.


So it's been a long time coming. In fact, I think I've blogged about this very project (in another lifetime?) at least twice.  Now that it's almost the moment of truth, I don't know if I love or hate it.  I certainly love the inspiration from which I embarked on the project.  Nothing like planning and purchasing and starting out on an endeavor, with nothing but possibility ahead, and about twelve skeins of wool washable yarn.








Early days, meticulous blocking.







An old blog post,  Spring 2103
Unfortunately, somewhere along the way I came to believe that I didn't have that *special stuff* required of the fifties housewife or whomever was expected to make these monster blankets. Much to my disgust, I realized that many of my diamonds were inconsistent in shape and size. 
early assemblage and blog-bliss
 Blocking (deep steam pressing) takes care of this problem to a certain extent, but, truth be told,  I can be a little devil-may-care in my approach to projects, so…Not. Perfect.….Which means, not a terrible thing in many projects (pie, for example) but for a piece that requires over a hundred perfectly symmetrical parallelograms sewn together with all seams equal, there erupts a problem.


But I persevere, and insist that this afghan will be worthy of the party that is our house-full-of-lap-throws.  The four of us often sit around, and whomever grabs afghan first is cozy and ready for whatever it is our family is up to (conversing, reading, drinking wine,  coffee, tea, dessert or sleep).  What I really love is having a project to work on (okay, many projects) so I'm never thinking or feeling that the things I do I do because I'm being *forced* to do them.

 Projects are so compelling to me simply because I don't really have a reason.  I just do.  There's no income, there's no *should* , there's no status.  All I have is the human desire to make something, and do something.  Call me entitled.  Sure.  But also, call myself Unencumbered.  This is the idea.  Amidst all of the shoulds, the worries, the what-ifs and the what I forgot to take care of,  insert the devil-may-care, "Just Because."  I'm gonna make an afghan, "Just Because" I can.  "Just Because I want to."  Or, finally, "Just Because I really really really wish that we all had to or wanted to make things for ourselves, because, of course, making things takes time, and this is what we've been doing since the beginning, and it's only in the very recent past that we've forgotten all this, and not needed to make things that take time for ourselves and for our survival and for our family."

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

I feel light, already!

Well, Iron-fans.  It's pretty much official.  I'm done.  Ironman Wisconsin came and went last weekend and not only was I not racing, I sort of did not care.  Sure, I checked the weather and results after a friend reminded me that it was Iron Sunday.  I even woke up at about three AM, relieved that I didn't have to wake up at four.  I also called a friend who somehow has managed to complete every single Ironman Wisconsin since the race began over ten years ago.  Overall, it feels pretty good. I'm interested and engaged in other things (make something every day) so there doesn't seem to be a lack of activity in my life.  I'm managing to stay in decent shape, sometimes more, sometimes less exercise, and almost always taking in healthy food.

Dropping a habit or hobby that consumes so much energy, effort and focus, allows me to try things that I always wanted to work on, but may not have had the chance.  Over the years, I've most likely invested a small fortune in Sport drinks, bars, gels, supplements, powders and the like.  You know the brands.  Probably one of the best is Hammer, but really, when you're relying on so many of your seasonal calories to come from a giant plastic vat of powder (mix with water),  it's a far cry from the sort of basic food that I gravitate towards when not pounding out hundred mile rides and three hour runs.  

So I'm not eating any of that packaged stuff, although my family and I still enjoy the occasional Kind Bar.
Kind Bars, YUM.
But at our newly opened Sugar Beet Food Co-op, we're carrying these little energy bars that bring back a lot of memories.  I think I started buying these little pouches of carob/nut/etc. bars at the infamous Berkeley Bowl in the late eighties.  Back when I first moved to California and I was living in a little apartment as an eighteen year old, I had already established a pretty hardy/cheap/mostly vegetarian eating style, but this was my first foray into living/feeding myself completely independently.  I remember how amazing the Bowl was, what with so many varieties of grown food, such  a vast selection of breads, bulk items, butcher, fish, cheese and more.  The Bowl was amazing, but it was also incredibly overwhelming.  I really had no idea what I needed/wanted and as I gazed at the intense veteran foodie/hippie folks who would pore over the produce carefully, knowledgeably, I'd sort of freak out.  I'd sometimes grab a few pippin apples, bulk pasta, nuts, peanut butter and get the heck out.  Yet I do remember that in the bulk section I found these awesome nibs, and not only was the price right, it was the sort of thing that I'd munch on for a light meal, between meal snack, on the go.  A life long relationship with food, launched.
Presentation is everything.
Fast forward to my years doing Ironman in Madison Wisconsin, and, frankly, one of my favorite things about training for this race and doing the event was the opportunity it afforded me to visit Madison, which feels in many ways so much like my hometown of Eugene, Oregon.  Madison's farm to table scene is alive and well, and there's no shortage of food co-op energy in town.  I'm a proud member of the Willie Street Co-op, and visit the store anytime I'm in town.  Used to be, that I'd stock up on a huge supply of dried goods when in town for raceday, along with items that I'd like to have along the way for my race and pre-race nutrition.  Always available, in a similar packaging at Willie Street was the little energy bar.  I'd munch on these a few days prior to race, also race morning, and stick a few in my food bags for the race. Easier to get into than the hermetically sealed cases that are cliff/power/gel whatevers.  A lot tastier, with a bit more texture, and naturally sweetened.  One of the great benefits of the little squares is that they are small.  I can eat, one, two, or more.  When I open a pre-packaged bar, I sort of have to commit to the size of the serving.  I don't know how often, in my life as an endurance athlete, I've found some sort of half eaten bar at the bottom of a sport bag or side pocket of a car or running shorts.  Then the question: do I leave this on the shelf and wait til next time to eat?  I'm frugal enough to hold onto that sandy crumpled bar, but let's face it, not appealing after a while.


So, I'm so thrilled that we've founded, built and opened a state of the art food co-op right here in Oak Park.  Seriously, I'm still pinching myself.  It's a long hard battle, and many folks aren't sure what to make of it, but every time I'm there I see people who either look as if they've been in a decent food store before, or as if they're curious about making something about the Beet work for them.  Not everyone is going to go as whole hog as me--after all, I know I'm pretty unique.  I know that not everyone wants to eat little cacao energy balls with flax seeds and pistachios crunched up inside.  But I also know that this is an amazing opportunity for those of us passionate about food climate to move forward, on so many levels.
Seize the day!
And here I am, after this morning's run!  Even I, after all these years, have had a rough patch or two in my fitness regime.  I've added a few pounds, slowed quite a bit, and often roll back over in bed rather than lace up the shoes and get out the door.  So, another of the benefits of our new grocery option is that I feel as if I've got my own shot at renewal.  Hard to not sound braggy, but I feel lighter, more energetic, more sexy, more alive.  I was already eating well, but the bump and passion of the Beet has brought my game to another level, as if the years and the surrender are peeling away.

The first time I did Vineman Ironman, in 1994, I went to a farm stand in Sonoma and bought some munchies to carry me through a few days.  I recall, fresh lime, pistachios in the shell, raw garlic and jalapeño pepper.  Okay, it may not be what you're going to feed your family tonight, but you get the idea.  Food that sparks the imagination, food as start point.  Food in small enough portions to not be stuck with leftovers and packages and the angst that is modern everything.  I feel light, already.  C'mon, join me.  You'll look, feel, and be amazing.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Lighten the Load

One of the great things about helping other people organize their stuff and get rid things is that when I come back home, I have a renewed sense of commitment to making sure that my own home isn't clogged with objects that will block flow.  Not everybody knows that I've taken on a few clients to help them organize their space.  As things go with all things unencumbered, I really want to give this a gentle nudge, instead of gunning my engine and saying "GO!" But,  for years I knew that it might be something that I couple with my *life coaching* expertise and bring increased flow and sanity to peoples' living spaces.

And this, exhibit A, is my own quiet work/typing space.  Not always spic and span, but at the end of a purging cycle and vacay, we're ready for the (too soon to imagine) September freak out!  In regard to ones' own work space, or desk, I can only say….don't let anybody else near it.  For those of you with younger kids and cats, good luck.  If it's clean, I want it to stay that way, and if it's a mess, I don't want someone else to see that errant bill/ticket/note that is not meant for their eyes.  I've strategically placed my random pile of papers on the antique sewing machine right outside of the viewfinder.  Have faith, it's a pretty tiny stack, because I sift through the whole thing almost regularly (two days ago).

Exhibit A: Heywood Wakefield desk, clean and beautiful.
 Exhibit B?  It's the room with a door that my roommate inhabits, when working/computing.   What I'm pointing out is the collection of albums, memorabilia, files etc..that are stacked, carefully in the corner of this room.   I sat on the floor just a day ago and sifted through two or three large collections of cards, letters, and photos from Mom and Dad that I was holding on to.  I looked at a few things for the last time and made the decision to let go and re-stored the photos and cards that I will keep, for now.  One of the important parts of purging is that we don't always know what we want, why, and for how long.  If we keep everything, then, eventually, we throw it all out, without enjoying any of it.  If we keep nothing,  we risk unnecessary loss.  As time passes, we have to look at objects and ask ourselves if and when other people are going to want to see these items. Some are private enough that we'd rather get rid of them (you know, that embarrassing note scrawled out on a bar napkin at one am?).
Exhibit B: even photos, letters, cards need to be curated periodically.

 And yes, I'm in the same boat as all of those parents who are constantly wondering how and why so much stuff barges into the house.  Why do we EVER buy gifts for a child?  Please, I rant and rant and rant, but it still gets in here.  But alas, as I've long contended, after (sometimes) great use, it gets passed on to a neighbor, a friend, or thrift agency that will make it useful.  There is a point, however, where the sheer mass of stuff in our offsprings' rooms is so overwhelming that we quietly enter with a giant trash bag and do the inevitable.    One remedy to the angst-producing trash bags of stuff is to purge more often, which, of course, requires time and energy. Pictured below are two of the real keepers that we're hoping find a lovely home among friends.  Both dolls are Gotz, although they're most likely draped in AG apparel.
Exhibit C: Gotz dolls in their finery on a daybed. 
So back to my endeavor, to not only clean my own home but to support people who are ready for change.  The great thing about having some experience holding a space for is that I know that not every one can handle equal amount of chaos/stuff/purging/papers/etc…part of helping somebody else purge their space is knowing that it's a process.  I'm always in process here at home.  When things get bumpy, or when things get quiet, I start to go at a section of the house.  It helps me find my own center.  Then again, there are times when I'm perfectly content with a large mass of items taking up space.  I'm a collector, after all.  I savor the objects as much, if not more than others.  So I get it.  I get the desire to collect and derive meaning from objects, I also get the desire to create space for new paths and energy.  I was chatting with a friend who I hadn't seen in quite some time, and the only thing she remembered about my new endeavor was the charming name I stumbled upon, she laughed, "Lighten the Load!"  I love it!




Sunday, June 28, 2015

Remembering. Honoring.

After the terrorist massacre in Charleston, SC last week, I took pause in my social media life (okay, Facebook) to post, every day, a photo and memorial bit on each of the nine victims that were murdered in the Emanuel AME Church.  I kept the name of the youngest victim for the very last mention.  This young man, a hero in every sense of the word, was twenty six year old TyWanza Sanders.  When confronted with the most awful situation, moved to shield his eighty-seven year old Auntie from violent attack.
Freshwanza on Instagram

A google of Tywanza's name brought up his social media presence via his well maintained Instagram page.  In this snapshot, there's so much to observe and interpret.  I think it's hard for me to say the following without the finger-waving that goes along with it: "People spend so much time talking about heroes in this land (firefighter, police officer, veteran, active duty service personnel, white principal/teacher/mother taking care of her (white) students/children/etc.), but who is taking time to holler from the rooftops about this hero?"   I would expect to be worn down by the over-coverage of how wonderful all of the victims of this senseless slaughter were, but sadly, I can't seem to get enough.

So, let me share some of the moving images and ideas I found while digging around this Instagram feed.  I hope that you, LF, and a few others will take the time to estimate the enormous power, love, wisdom, and perspective that this young man endeavored to contribute.




Freshwanza's Insta feed is packed with photos of himself, family, friends, kids and babies.  Wisdom in ideas and mantras. Inspiration in drive and hope.


Family.



 A gorgeous sunny day and disposition to match.

A photo posted by TyWanza Sanders (@freshwanza) on

Young. Aware. Shaped by experience and driven to success and caring.




A photo posted by TyWanza Sanders (@freshwanza) on
A photo posted by TyWanza Sanders (@freshwanza) on