Time to speed up my packing at the Huntsville house. This stuff is starting to come together.
So here is my friend Jose del Muerto, overseeing the removal of wallpaper in the dining room. It took about 2 days to scrape off the dark teal paper with the dogwood blossoms that lurked underneath the 1965-era flocked white vinyl. Still, it's about done. I've met with painters, floor guys, electrical guys, etc. Floor tile is ordered for other rooms--hardwood in this one. This lovely room will be painted in vibrant Oaxaca colors--I think a coral for the upper walls, then red in the background of the paneling, coral in the central panels. Possibly a blue on the outline moulding. The rug that will go here is an old oriental with dark red, dark and medium blue, and salmon pink. Curtains will be gone and venetian blinds installed. Lots of artwork on the walls (some of it mine). Victorian furniture and a new wrought iron chandelier with red blown-glass shades from Wimberley Glassworks. Jose will move to the entry hall once the flooring is done there.
Time to speed up my packing at the Huntsville house. This stuff is starting to come together.
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As I plan to move closer to family, I'm overwhelmed by the number of books we've accumulated over the years. There were plans to write a book about national park development--so we always had an excuse to buy books about national parks and railroads; Pat kept a bibliography of these and at the end, there are about 550 of them. I've catalogued 150 books on trains and railroad stations, and a similar number on vigilantes and frontier violence. I've trashed my nursing textbooks and law school casebooks--too outdated for any current use. I've recycled twenty years or more of train magazines. And I've boxed up many of the ones I plan to keep and read; so far there are 30 boxes of books in the garage for the movers. I've given a number of boxes to the local library ("Use what you can and sell the rest in the annual book sale.") And yet, there are many more--I haven't started on art books and fiber books. I would happily set up a table on the road with a "FREE BOOKS" sign if I thought it would work, but they're heavy and I'd have to be the one moving them around, and most of them have very limited general appeal. That said, if any reader wants boxes of books on national parks, 19th century US history or vigilantes, shoot me a comment. You pay the postage and I'll get them to you. There have been discussions on the QuiltArt list about what to do with our fiber art as we age. Really, nobody wants it all, nobody wants the collection. Some few museums might be willing to cherry-pick and take a few, but they need an endowment to process and preserve the artifacts. Family will be stuck with Mother's output. We hold out hope that they won't use our work as potholders or dog beds. I can move the stash to my new, large studio,and I'll have storage space for the quilts. But at some future date my son will have to deal with all this. If I can, I'd like to make it easier for him. The moral of the story is, I guess, that we don't need nearly as much stuff as we think we do. It would be a salutary lesson to move every five years or so, editing the collection out of necessity. Just one wall of the books not yet boxed. Maybe a bonfire isn't the worst idea in the world! So here are the five bears I've made for the church bazaar. Forgive the background clutter--it's all the ladies at the Monday evening crafts and arts group. We've been unable to name this group--somebody suggested "The Busy Bees," but I just insisted that I'm no insect, and I don't come to be "busy." Patrick always called it the Coven, but that's not an official name. I think the bears turned out well, quirky but not too far out to sell. What's fun about making these is that each one is just a bag of fiberfill until you put the eyes, nose and mouth on, at which point they suddenly develop personality. I have a couple more cut out; finishing will depend on time available. I promised a photo from the trip to Tampa. This one was sent by my brother in law, and it expresses pretty clearly how we spent our time on the Gulf. Just relaxing and enjoying the sea and sky. Most vacations aren't like that--we fill them with things to do and places to see. But this was about being, not doing. It was lovely.
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AuthorBobbe Shapiro Nolan, Fiber Artist in Eagle Lake, TX. Trying to learn to call the sewing room my studio, and myself an artist. I retired after 15 years in hospice nursing--so now I have the time!. Archives
July 2021
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