Thursday, May 15, 2014
I've been feeling just a little melancholy lately.Maybe it's the weather. Spring just doesn't want to happen this year. Maybe it's the holidays. And maybe it's just that I feel that some changes are on the horizon. It is really hard not to miss all the people and objects that I no longer have. I use up such a large portion of my energy and my brain just trying not to think about the way life used to be. Of course, at night, there are no shields, so I often wake from disturbing dreams. Who knows? Nearly every night, I dream about death and houses. Maybe I am just tired from all that dreaming.
Lately, I have spent lots and lots of time trying not to think about my old house. Even though I am very well suited to my current place, it doesn't feel like it is really mine. Maybe it's because renting doesn't feel like a permanent committment. I'm not sure. I do know that I really wish I had more shelves and cupboards and drawers!
We have had a lot of stormy weather lately, with sirens and newscasts and everyone I know facebooking from their basements. That could be it. I am missing my basement and my lovely, organized crafting room. That is the one room here in my new place that I can not get to come together. Without all my shelves, and cupboards, and drawers, I can never seem to find anything. Maybe I am just creatively stifled.
Today I met the sweet young family who bought our little cottage. And it makes me so very,very glad (in my melancholy way). I have heard such good reports about them and I can tell that they truly love the house.Maybe that shouldn't even matter but it does. I believe that old houses have a sort of soul and absorb the feelings of the people who live there.Maybe that's the difference. A rental is often just a temporary home. So many tenants only stay a year. I plan to live here for quite a while, but I've seen lots of people move in and out of the neighborhood since I've been here. My downstairs neighbor moved out yesterday, and even though I hardly ever saw him, the house feels different. Maybe after I have been here a little longer, and feel more organized, this place will have more soul. Maybe.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
This is a journal I made years ago using a photo of my mother when she was a teenager. I love this picture. It is so full of hopes and dreams.
I am the oldest of five children and my youngest sister (Shawna) was only four when I became a mother. So I have been surrounded by children most of my life. I remember lots of times when I longed for a little piece of quiet, but I can honestly say that I have loved every moment of being a mother.
I don't have a lot of family keepsakes, but I do have this note written by my grandmother after my mother's birth:
Our hopes for our
Baby's future are Health,
And a kind loving heart.
And: Honor Thy Father
& Thy Mother.
May Joys ever be yours.
I remember my grandmother as a stern woman who didn't often show her softer side. I was afraid of her when I was growing up, but got to know her better after I had babies of my own. She liked to sew and made quilts while nursing her babies, liked to write, had a very strong faith, and was superstitious about the things that bring bad luck---black horses, red dresses, and singing at the table.