A fairly happy college educated, widow. I successfully raised 6 children to adults.
I am a science and history loving nerd by nature, print junkie, fibre fiend, yarn hording coffee drinking, hand and machine knitting student of life.
I love the Lord, my family,my little dog, my country and my friends.
I believe we all have the right to dignity. And we only have one trip through life.Let's make the most of it.
http://www3.telus.net/public/palea/
morning, Isabel, picket up Rosalie, Pat and myself for a sunny ride to Coombs.
The object of the day was to attend the 100 Mile Fibre Fair.
This was amazing how much and how many types of fibre is grown in the Islands.
We found raw fibre, roving, dyed and natural, spun fibre, knitted articles and new ideas.
After feeling the gentle Alpaca, the shimmering Kid and Angora, one tends to feel wool nd find it a lot rougher in nature, though in fact it was not.
The silks were in a rainbow of colour and luxury.
Lucky for me, the Vendors all had little signs that said touch me. And I did for about 4 hours. I did buy as well. No one could resist the seductive fibre.
The colours were stunning and the mind kept saying, I could spin that, I can knit that, I just have to have a bit of that.
I saw Vendors came from Tofino, North Island, South Island and the Gulf Island. All within 100 miles.
I remember a particular Mother’s Day in school where we were all to bring a picture of our mothers.
I brought mine and placed it on the back table with the rest.
Then the School Secretary brought in a big bouquet of roses. Some of the roses were red and a few were white.
If your mothers were alive, we were to take a red rose. If our mother was dead, we were to take a white rose.
This was an astonishing day. Margaret, the over achiever took a white. Danny, who flirted with the law, took a white. The twins Joan and Gail both selected a white.
And David, the class clown and general pain in the neck also selected a white rose.
We learned so much about each other that day.
Influences that played out in behavior.
I was fortunate enough to take a red rose home to my mom.
An abandoned woman, struggling to raise two children on very little income. in a foreign country with no family and few friends.
This was before the days where single parent was a choice on an application.
I think now, of all the responsibilities her shoulders bore.
She got my brother through high School and also through UBC where he got a Masters degree.
She got me grown with a sence of self worth that helped me attain Miss Nanaimo and a brief modelling career.
We went without many things, but never love.
There were nights when my brother needed money for university, that we went without food. Kraft dinner was a treat and I will hate meat paste till my dying day.
We carried water in two large containers on a wagon 5 miles.
My mother always insisted that your clothes may be mended, but never torn. You may have to rinse you underwear out nightly
and put it over the stove to dry, but it must be clean.
When I got my first pair of shoes at 14, mother insisted that they be cleaned every night. She said if you wanted to judge a person’s character, look at the way they treat their shoes. And I still clean them before I wear then mom, and I can hear her saying, “Clean them before you put them away, not before your wear them.”
I lost my mom to Leukemia 1985
Sarah Elizabeth Fearn (Raynor) Stevenson 1901-1985
I still miss her. So So many times I have wanted to share things with her, or ask her counsel.
She taught me to sew, crotchet, knit, Gypsy patterning, cook and make do.She could make anything with out a pattern. A natural knitter, designer and creator.She was also a healer. A skill I wish I had paid more attention to.
Each passing year though, I get more like her. I look a lot like her. her hair was naturally dark to the end of her days.
She loved her dog like a child, and had a little corner where she created her crafts. as I do. I so resemble that. Even my son mentioned it. many things I would like to share with her.
Mom I hope you have that mansion, and I hope the streets are paved with grass, you liked that better than gold. I hope that dogs go to Heaven because it would seem unlike the Heaven I imagine if there were no pets to love.
I cannot give you a rose this year mom. Please accept my gratitude and my words. Thanks for being my Mom.
I have used a lot of different web page design software packages in the last 15 years.
I am now trying to get a handle on Wordpress.
I started out with just a blog,but as I added information and pages from other elements of the Juan De Fuca Arts and Crafts Guild, it took on the appearance and functions of a website.
It is a quick learning for just blogs, but I wanted to add more. This took some research and a lot of trial and error.
I think so far, we are co existing Wordpress and I.
It you want to see what the fruits of my labour have been, look at
The hardest part was embedding the calender. That gave me about 4 days of struggling, deleting and trying again. I think I have it in there now.
The intriguing part, is that by clicking on an upcoming event, you can get full details, interface with google map for directions and even get a street view of the event.
Technology has come a long way since I started in HTML.
Wessie was born in a small village in England. He was a product of love
from several surrogate mothers: Corarle, Francis, Helen and Margaret. He can’t
remember much about his early life. Just the sound of laughter, and the soft
touch of ladies hands as he was lovingly brought to life.
His first adventure started in a brown bag with very strange words on
it “Canada” and even stranger “Ladysmith”. “Where on earth was Ladysmith?” the
small bear wondered.
His journey was a bit worrying,
First The big brown bag with no
window so he couldn’t see out. Then a he was thrown on a truck with letters and
parcels being sent all over the world. Some of the parcels smelt very funny.” I
hope I don’t smell funny”, thought Wessie.
Next he was loaded on a big airplane. He had never been on an airplane
before, in fact he had never been anywhere before. The sound was terrific as
the jet engines roar to life. “I will be very frightened.” Said the small bear out load, although there
was no one to hear him.
Then all at once they were flying. This was a very odd sensation, and
soon the small bear started to enjoy himself.
He remembers scraps of
conversations he had heard in the dog’s room at Wessington. The voices had
talked of far off lands and people and strange food and customs.
Well thought Wessie
“This really is an adventure. My other bear friends can’t be having half as
much fun as me”.
As the hours passed, the bear fell asleep. He was just a small bear
after all.
He slept right through the landing and the customs inspector, who
stamped the brown bag with a stamp marked “Passed” right on his rump. He slept
through the ferry ride to a far off Island and also through the postal clearing
center in Nanaimo.
He felt himself lifted and put in a metal box and heard the door snap
shut. “Is this Ladysmith?” he wondered.” If this is Ladysmith, I don’t think I
like it.”
He was very alert now. He heard
footsteps approach the metal box and leave again. Several times he heard
different steps. Then he heard steps that stopped right outside his compartment
in the metal box.
He was lifted out and his brown bag was ripped open. At first it was
hard to see because his eyes weren’t accustomed to the light. The a face
started to take shape. It was an ordinary face but there was something special
about it too. First it looked a bit like one of his surrogate mothers, and
secondly it looked at him with love. All at once, Wessie felt a flood of peace
and well-being. “I am going to like it here “, he thought.
The lady, later he found her name was Patty-anne, but he preferred to
call her Mom, carried him home in her arms.
On the way she looked at each
and every part of him and marveled at the beautiful way he was made. She
exclaimed so much about his color, design and workmanship, that he became quite
proud of himself. At first he was placed on the china cabinet with other treasures that
Mom liked to have close at hand.
From there he met the rest of Mom’s family. Jim, or Pop as he thought
of him. Chris the teenager, Rover and Gypsy the dogs and Big Boyd and Widgit,
the parrots .
He thought the dogs nasty and
the birds noisy, but he didn’t complain.
Soon he met a friend call Al the Alpaca and they took a tour of his new
home.
He found lots to do. He could relax by the fountain and let the cool
waters and lush green plants lull him into a state of contentment,
Then he could smell the flowers. These were strange flowers, not much
smell, but very pretty. They attracted butterflies, which stopped for a chat
and humming birds that told him of their long flights to Mexico, hitchhiking on
the backs and in the slipstreams of other birds.
The nightlife was interesting. He could prop up a lamp and watch the
family at their crafts and hobbies, or he could just hang about and listen to
their conversation. It often included names he remembered as a baby bear back
in Wessington.
And one special joy he got, was reading the pages of the lovely card
that had made the journey with him.
He knew Mom enjoyed reading this card too and often he would sit on her
knee and she would tell him about the people she had met and learned to love
just as Wessie loved them.
But now she was telling him of new adventures, of camping, and the wild
west coast where the waves were 40 feet high and the Big Bears roamed through
the camp as well as wild salmon swimming in the sea and were caught and ate for
dinner.
He was going with Mom. She promised she would take him with her where
ever she went. And some times and the rest of the family would come too.
There would be a whole new adventure to talk about.
Being laid up for 8 days just when spring starts out to tease us is not fun. My might was creating, thinking, plotting and planning.
I finally got up the strength to clean some of my house today. It was either that or put a sign on the door that said Fibre Farm, tread carefully.
At least I had a chance to try more needle felting while I was under the weather.
I started out with a teddy bear made with directions made from an excellent book Ashford’s Book of Needle Felting.
I already sold his little brother.
Then using a picture of a friend’s dog I tried a Boston Terrier.
I made fellow. A rabibit child pulling a toy sheep with wheels was next . I added a blue Canadian Duck, a powder bowl with a Couple of felted fragrance balls
. I am making a lot of dryer balls. These eco friendly alternatives to fabric softener or horrid blue petro carbon balls.
Then I thought I would knit and felt some bowls and embellish them with needle felting .
.So although I was not feeling terrific, I did manage to do a bit of creating.
