Rowe

Ghosts of Christmas Past

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After getting our Christmas tree in Heath a week ago I was thinking about our first Heath tree.  The living room had been in the process of rehab and I forced everyone to make commitments to get things done by promising a Christmas Eve celebration when the walls had very large holes still in the drywall, nothing was painted and the plastic had not been off of the floor for almost 3 years.  There’s nothing like the thought of 20+ people coming to your house for dinner to get things done.

Russell was to finish a paneled wall  going over the huge hole above the fireplace.  The entire room, walls and trim had to be painted.  The baseboards had to be trimmed (another job for Russell).  The plastic had to be pulled up, the glue from the tape removed from the floor.  Furniture had to be rearranged throughout the house – it had all been in one room since we started this project.  Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.

Christmas fell on a Friday that year.  When I arrived the Saturday before the panel was on sawhorses in the living room – unpainted.  They needed to “acclimate”.  I believe the woodwork had one coat of paint and not all of the walls had any paint at all.  To say I was a little stressed is an understatement.

Russ and Carmen insisted we come and get a tree for the room.  I was thinking, “Is it going to be big enough to cover that HUGE HOLE above the fireplace?!?”  Russell just smiled.  We spent the morning hunting for trees, eating, socializing.  We came home to see that my brother in law had finished painting the entire living room while we were gone (he’s a painter by trade).  The girls pulled up the plastic from the floor and we moved and cleaned for the rest of the day.  And the first tree in over 20 years was put up in front of the bay window.  The vintage Santa took his place and it seemed as though we could pull this off.

That Monday the panel was primed and placed above the fireplace.  When I arrived it was just a matter of a few decorations and some major cooking.  Large candle sconces went over the electrical boxes on the walls.  We put candles everywhere.  Cait had made 80 luminaries for the driveway.  Candle carriage lamps lit the mantel covered in fruit, nuts and berries.  Every place at the table had a candle and there was very little electricity used that night.  People were charmed, enchanted by the soft glow.  Those of us that had pulled this off were just thinking, “It’s all theater.”

I had just spent the past couple of months working at Old Sturbridge Village when all of the events were by candlelight.  Initially we had an event where people took guided tours at night to see how people saw things in the 1830’s.  It was all a matter of social standing.  If you were poor you saw things by the light coming from your fireplace.  As you moved up on the social ladder you may have had candles made from tallow or beeswax.  Those in the fine houses with money had oil lamps in addition to the firelight and candles.  So you saw a progression from poor to rich and it got brighter all the way.

I think the house at Fort Pelham Farm saw a complete progression.  I’m sure many candles were used but they were used in a much more judicious manner than that Christmas Eve in 2009.  We’ve come a long way in our creature comforts but there is nothing that says Christmas to me more than candlelight.

Hearts Bleeding

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There is so much noise going on over the shooting in CT that I have had to stay off of the internet for the most part and turned tv off altogether.  I’ve just returned from breakfast with my younger daughter.  The restaurant was packed so we sat at the bar.  There was a giant tv overhead with the news on with closed captioning.  I watched for a minute.  NBC news with continued coverage of the Newtown shooting.  Seriously?  Continued coverage?

My heart goes out to the people of Newtown.  I just want to scream at the media to leave them alone and let them begin to heal.  I read an article in the NY Times this morning where they had 8 reporters covering this event for one article.  The madness on so many levels in that town is unbelievable to me.

What have we become?  Jenna Woginrich of Cold Antler Farm mentioned the celebrity we give tragedy. “It is news the first time you hear it, sadness and silence.  It becomes pornography for the fearful shortly thereafter”.  How can we not think that sensationalizing this type of thing does not make it worse?  

The internet and all other forms of “communication” are so good in some ways but in others they are so evil.  I’m not sure we need a debate of any kind about anything right now and being on any social media just begs you to jump on board.

I will spend my weekend with good friends and family and I’m sure discussions will be had but I will be with people I love, in a place that is quiet and peaceful.  I will walk outdoors with my dogs and smell the fresh air.  I will think about how fortunate I am in what I have and send my thoughts to the parents of those children because they have just experienced a life altering loss that I can’t even begin to imagine.

It’ Just a Dog

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Chester

From time to time people tell me, “Lighten up, it’s just a dog,” or, “That’s a lot of money for just a dog.”

They don’t understand the distance traveled, the time spent or the costs involved for “just a dog.”

Some of my proudest moments have come about with “just a dog.”

Many hours have passed and my only company was “just a dog,” but I did not once feel slighted.

Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by “just a dog,” and, in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of “just a dog” gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it’s “just a dog,” then you will probably understand phases like “just a friend,” “just a sunrise,” or “just a promise.”

“Just a dog” brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy.

“Just a dog” brings out the compassion and patience that makes me a better person.

Because of “just a dog” I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me, and folks like me, it’s not “just a dog” but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past and the pure joy of the moment.

“Just a dog” brings out what’s good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it’s not “just a dog” but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being “just a human.”

So the next time you hear the phrase “just a dog.” just smile….because they “just don’t understand.”

– Anonymous

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Adams

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Adams Mountain (1)

I took this photograph last Sunday just before we went to get our Christmas tree.  I’ve been thinking about what makes a person feel at home, safe, secure.  I’ve always known that the place where I feel the safest is Rowe but I started thinking about why Rowe does that for me.  It’s because very little changes.  Sure the faces have changed over the years, the zoning, the politics but very little else.

This is Adams Mountain.  It’s a small mountain – elevation 2,110 feet.   This view has really evolved over the past five years or so.  Bill has done a tremendous amount of work to clean up what was once a pasture.  The only time we can see it from the back yard is when the leaves are off of the trees but I always know it’s there.

In May of 1961 we moved to Potter Road in Rowe.  At the time there weren’t as many trees as there are now and the trees that were there were much smaller.  You could see Adams from the house.  I started school in the Town Hall that year but moved into the new elementary school in the spring of 1962 and you guessed it, the school was right across the road from Pelham Lake and Adams.

All the time I was growing up so much of what we did had Adams in the background.  School, the beach, Old Home Day, the library, the town hall, everything you did had it in the background.  In the summers many families in town would sponsor a Fresh Air kid from New York City.  I remember once one of them asked me as they looked at the mountains and hills around them, “How do you get out?”.  I always thought that was a funny way of looking at things, I felt secure, they felt trapped.

I think it’s good to be attached to something so solid.  It has evolved ever so slightly over the years but all changes have been at the hand of man. I think of everyone who has ever lived in this house, worked this farm, made a life in Rowe and they have all had the same view.  Sometimes that’s difficult to wrap your head around.   Adams has been sitting there for thousands of years and I like the idea that my family, potentially for generations could be looking at the same thing from the back yard.

The pain of the learning curve

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121127 Warping Towels

Warping board with cotton warp.

A few months ago I bought a 36″ 4 harness Harrisville loom from a friend who was moving.  She posted it on Facebook asking if anyone was interested.  The second I saw it I said sure and the rest is history.

Let’s start by saying the only weaving I have ever done is a potholder.  I’m a good potholder maker, everything is neat and I work on design with color but it’s a potholder.  I come from a long line of weavers so my take on this was it’s probably genetic, I’ll find a teacher and run with it.  I found Firewatch Weavers on the internet and sent in my deposit.  I was thrilled to find someone that teaches on a Harrisville.  I took Pam’s first 6 week course and warped and wove a sampler.

Next project – cotton towels with a twill weave.  Cool I’m thinking.  She always has us do a worksheet to figure out the warp before we begin.  I understood what I was doing and I began winding my warp.  I had limited time at the studio that night so I left at 9:00 pm and decided to return in a couple of days to finish winding.  Pam told me I’d probably have to wind it in two sections because I wouldn’t have enough room on the warping board for the whole thing.  When I returned I took off the first half of the warp and began winding the second half.  I was almost finished when she asked me how wide my towels were.  14 inches I replied and saw this look on her face, then a smile.  I’d warped enough to do the project twice!  Ugh, is what I initially thought but then she said well now you can warp your loom in Rowe and weave it at the same time!

Lesson learned.  Warping can be pretty tedious although it is probably the most important part of weaving, at least from a design stand point.  There are 12 other weavers in the studio at any given time, all of which are at different skill levels.  One of my favorite things is going from loom to loom discussing each project and then the ways that many of them have screwed up their warp and ultimately were in a bind when they started weaving.  Lessons learned, just not necessarily on my loom.

In the coming weeks I’ll be talking about setting up the loom in the library in Rowe and the adventures that I am sure are going to follow.  Some include working in the wood shop to create tools to help me with the weaving.  This should be interesting.