The forsythia in the header are outside my bedroom window and the nameless shrub besides it, (not in this picture) has beautiful furled green buds that will be leaves the minute the gray clouds lift and the sun returns. The picture here is of the evergreens an the big, leafless oak that is my view from here at the work desk -- it is an eastward view but certain evenings the setting sun sends a magnificent reflection of red and mauve into the eastern sky. I am always amazed to watch a sunset while looking in the opposite direction.
But as for "golden time" -- yes, even in the gray days as we've been having, I enjoy drives along Rte. 6A, the old deer trail/Indian path/stagecoach track along the northern side of Cape Cod, still two lane. There are a few commercial areas, a lot of white churches (at least three set on hills to look down in a paternal way at the surrounding homes. The trees along 6A are as big as they get on Cape Cod, being as old as they get -- they don't get all that tall, since we have sandy, not very nutritious soil, but they get old and venerable and some are so close beside 6A that I have the illusion when driving along at night or on a rainy afternoon that they could step out right in front of me, especially on the many curves on this road on which virtually no passing areas exist.
I love to drive it anyway. Right now every home, however old or new, however big or small (and it is a wonderful, deeply satisfying mix of all those sorts) seems to have their forysthia, singly or in hedges or sprawling untrimmed shrubs. Most homes have clumps or rows of daffodils and narcissus, too. A couple of days ago some of the flowering fruit trees had turned white, the few magnolias are opening. Such a beautiful time of year even when there's rain spitting at me (and a minute's worth of hail the other day). Lawns are greening and homeowners are raking, digging, trimming. The gardeners were in my yard the last couple of days and did a good job. Now where IS the sun?
Woman poets are marginalized, have been marginalized, if we are to believe modern researchers, since people ignored Shakespeare's sister. (Well, THAT was a tough act to compete with.) If one looks through anthologies of poetry, especially modern poetry, the preponderance of poets are men. Many, many women have been writing poetry ever since Sapho in Greece but, as in so many other arts, they are almost ignored. Women poets have won Nobel prizes (Wislawa Szymborska is a favorite and is in the panel that's mostly orange) and been names US Poet Laureates. Yet I heard a man who was supposedly teaching poetry say, "there are no great women poets." I was taking a class from that man. I left the class ... and told him how I felt about his attitude.
Because I read many women poets and love their work, I decided to make a quilt using selvages -- the "margins" of our quilting fabrics which many quilters cut off and discard. So I have given twelve poets I especially admire large panels in the center of the quilt and I have put quotes by more than twenty other poets around the border. I finished the quilt today and hung it over my piano which will be it's regular home. Above is the whole thing -- you can't read any part of it in the photo and below is a detail showing three poets, Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath and Elizabeth Bishop. It's still National Poetry Month and I'm still giving poems to many, many friends.
Finn, with a new haircut and his ice cream birthday cake and favorite cousin, Moses. Finn is a lucky boy with a batch of cousins, only one is a little older (the ladylike Mercedes who'll start kindergarten next fall). There are, I think, seven in all and all were at his birthday party at Friendly's restaurant, along with the full compliment of aunts and uncles and all four grandparents and one old "Grand", i.e., me. No, it was not total chaos, they were somewhat loud but all fairly well behaved.
Finn's little sister, Stella, was festive a with a balloon theme head band made by crafty mommy, Cory who sells many styles of headbands on her Etsy shop.
It's hard to believe there were no, grandchildren when I moved to Cape Cod five years ago and now there are three. Middle brother, Cole, had a second birthday just three months ago.
This darling pin cushion and the two jeweled "pinsies" were made by Karen Griska, the publisher of The Selvage Blog (see sidebar), one of my favorite blogs. She is a wonderful quilter but also makes the pinsies and pin cushions, all in a wonderful varieties and now and then she gives some away to her blog followers. I was lucky enough to win this one. Since I use a lot of red, it couldn't be more perfect. Thank you, Karen.
I have her fan pattern of which she's shown a number of iterations lately. At the moment I'm champing at the bit because I have a pile of UFOs that I MUST work on -- although maybe not finish all of them -- before I can allow myself to try the pattern, one I really, really love because it's perfect for the way I like to quilt -- with scraps and without templates.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!