Christmas continues...

I finally got into the studio today. I didn't know what to do, except clean house, but what fun is that? So, as we say in French comme ça va (as it goes), I decided to start a new project. New projects generally create messes, so as we also say comme de fait (as it does) I made the already big mess beaucoup plus much bigger. 

But the mess is worth it! Because look what I pulled off. Today. I know. It is after Christmas. That's okay. I just had an itch. It's been weeks, WEEKS I say, since I went into the studio and turned on a machine. 

Today would have been my dad's birthday, so I figured I needed a little creativity to counteract the tears. It worked. Making a few little happy things and praying a rosary tonight are two great ways to fight the depression of the holidays. 

And look how happy! A couple of little hearts. Some strings of beads. Red flowers. Shimmery satin flowers. 

It took me almost all afternoon. I got stuck on those red flowers. That's what happens when you don't have the correct materials. I really wanted some red flowers. Three attempts in, I decided to use the smaller one. Then finally, I remembered the basket of sheer fabrics. That worked beautifully. 

I have bolts of white satiny fabric, so I used it to make some little hearts, two I embellished with ready-made trims from a drawer. And with some small squares, I made what might be closed tulips. They are cute in person, I'm not sure about in these pictures.

Some gold ribbon serves as string for one of the pieces and strings of small beads work for the other one. 

The tassel on the right is actually a ribbon trim that I just sewed into a circle and added beads to create a head. The strings of beads on that piece are the ones I strung before Christmas. I decided that they weren't showy enough as single strands and planned to made a few more to make into some sort of tassel. Well, here's the tassel I came up with. 



Each piece has six or seven strands of decoration and every strand is different, which is what I like most about them. They look great with the purchased decorations but add some uniqueness to the tree. They may even add a little elegance but, being handmade, they are also simple and homey.

Can you guess where I got my inspiration? 

Papa -- a hard loss

Back in the beginning of April, I wrote this article about Richard's dad, who had become bedridden and losing his battle with COPD and dementia. We lost him last week. He struggled for weeks unable to breathe, though his memory had a few days of clarity. He was able to recognize those who visited and say goodbye. It was heart-wrenching, but having the closure and knowing he was ready must make his loss easier for Mrs. Carolyn, his wife, and Richard and Steve, their two sons. 

Mama and Papa

We spent as much time as possible with him because we wanted someone to be with Mrs. Carolyn when the time came. Waiting while a loved one slowly passes away is difficult enough without having to face it all alone. So Rich and I made sure one of us was sitting in their house or within just a couple of minutes drive. Mostly we tried to help her in dealing with hospice, company, family, and her own grief.

He'd been in a semi-coma for a week when, finally, on Wednesday morning he took his last breath. I must say that first time that he stopped breathing for several moments was frightening. Not that I'm afraid of death, but because I had promised to call the family. But that was just a warning of what would come in less than an hour, and we were able to gather everyone to their house. 

Richard's parents, Richard Sr. and Carolyn; my parents, Riley
and Ellen (their 50th anniversary); and Richard and me.

People in our area have held wake services for the dead for centuries. Although it's rarely followed now, the Cajun French people of Louisiana held "the wake" throughout the night and into the morning when the funeral is held. Papa had made several things clear and "an all-night wake" (meaning a traditional service) was an absolute if we were going to follow his wishes. Of course, we would comply: a rosary, a mass, a burial in the plot he had prepared 20+ years ago. He had always made things simple. 

Friday we said our last goodbyes and prayed the funeral rites. Papa had been raised and remained Catholic for his entire life. It's quite calming to know exactly what to expect during a Catholic mass. Somehow it's easier to mourn. Father Sklar, who has been assigned to us for only a few weeks, had visited the family several times in the last month and celebrated with a beautiful eulogy. 

And so the last of the five Marcotte brothers is gone.

Pa-pa

Richard's dad is in the last throws of dementia. It's terribly sad to watch this man, who was so vital and full of life when Rich and I first married, slowly lose every bit of life. Now bedridden, he's become a shell of a person, barely recognizing even his sons and grandsons. 

When I first met him, Rich's parents were in their late 30s, working and farming, raising a family and caring for elderly parents of their own. The Marcotte men would throw 50 lb. crates of sweet potatoes onto stacks that reached well above my head. 

 My father-in-law is the last of his generation of our family, having buried his four brothers. 

Today I asked our sons to pitch in and help us care for their grandparents. The task is too much and though we are three--Rich, his mom, and I--we need all hands on deck. 

So our boys will get a lesson in caring for the sick.  Who better to care for than their grandfather? The man who taught them the value of hard work and fair wages... and foul French words, yes, literally! 

Newfangled Farming -- A Video

My husband played on his tractor Saturday. His parents planted a few Irish potatoes in our garden, and Richard used the tractor and the old digger to get them out of the ground--most of the potatoes had been dug earlier, one hill at a time. Richard rarely gets on the tractor anymore because it's very rough and hurts his back, but to help his parents....

I found it all rather funny because, well, watch the video. It's only 50 seconds long but it will give you an idea of how farming was done 40 or so years ago. 

That noise! It's not Richard. The tractor is older than he is and squeaks just a bit more. This is the way we do things around here still. Sometimes.

Yes, really 40 years. I know because the tractor and digger have been in the family for the 37 years that Richard and I have been married. They were used extensively when Richard's dad farmed 60 or so acres of sweet potatoes annually. This means they have put some hours in the fields around our home.

The picture on the right shows the rows after the potatoes were dug. 

All of this tractor work for two baskets of new potatoes. Oh, and let's not forget the joy of riding your tractor for five minutes!

Sunday Quilt Inspiration: Father's Day

In honor of the wonderful men in my life who have loved me, supported me, encouraged me and inspired me, I want to say thank you for the blessings.  God, of course, is at the top of the list.  My husband and our sons, my father-in-law, my late father and many other men who have no clue of the difference they have made in my life:  uncles, grandfathers, principals, co-workers and so on.

All that said, I thought it would be nice to show a few quilts made especially with guys in mind.

Happy Father's Day

From today's first reading: 

“‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will take a shoot from the very top of a cedar and plant it; I will break off a tender sprig from its topmost shoots and plant it on a high and lofty mountain. ²³ On the mountain heights of Israel I will plant it; it will produce branches and bear fruit and become a splendid cedar. Birds of every kind will nest in it; they will find shelter in the shade of its branches. ²⁴ All the trees of the forest will know that I the Lord bring down the tall tree and make the low tree grow tall. I dry up the green tree and make the dry tree flourish.

“‘I the Lord have spoken, and I will do it. ’”        Ezekiel 17:22-24

Reading this passage as lector during mass today, I could not help but think of my father, Riley.  He was so much like the cedar tree in the reading.  A farmer for most of my life, he planted vegetables that fed the family both at the table and by bringing in money, so today's reading and gospel were especially poignant to me.  


I guess if dad was the cedar, that would make my seven sisters and I the fruit.  In my mind, the birds would be the cousins who spend summers at our house, our many friends and our husbands. 






Of course, at the time I was reading to the entire congregation. Thanks to my ADD, I managed without too many errors, but I could not think through the idea while reading aloud.  When I did have the time this afternoon, my thoughts were mostly about my dad and the kind of person he was, his love for momma and us girls, his faith and integrity and pride.  I am blessed to have known him and to have had the opportunity to learn from him.  

I miss him terribly and this weekend has taken a toll my emotions, but the hurt and grief are signs of how much he has meant to us all.  I can only hope I leave such a legacy.