Magpie Tales is a blog “dedicated to the enjoyment of poets and writers, for the purpose of honing their craft, sharing it with like-minded bloggers, and keeping their muses alive and well.” Each week, it offers an image as a writing prompt.
I have over three dozen pairs of socks. And that’s not counting the ones without mates.
I can’t imagine how I ever accumulated such a stash, but it’s typical of my reluctance to get rid of stuff. Psychological stuff as well as physical stuff. Sometimes it works to my advantage, for example, when my grandson is rooting around for some odd and end for a project he is constructing. I usually have whatever it is he needs. That reminds me of the earlier version of this book that I bought for him when he was a toddler.
But, like my stash of socks, there is stuff I don’t need to carry around with me. The writing workshop I took yesterday brought that fact home with great clarity.
Sorting socks is not the complete answer. But it’s a start.
Now, if I can only get an Amtrak writer’s residency, that might really give me a fresh start.
Starting fresh at age 74. Hmm. I can be Amtrak’s Grandma Moses. Ya think?
[Oh bollocks! I just realized I put the wrong Facebook url in my application. That might knock me out of the running right there. Too soon old; too late smart.]
Magpie Tales is a blog “dedicated to the enjoyment of poets and writers, for the purpose of honing their craft, sharing it with like-minded bloggers, and keeping their muses alive and well.” Each week, it offers an image as a writing prompt.
When poets dream,
the earth grows bones.
Stones hurl themselves
through windows
open to the lure of light,
only to return,
filled with shadows
that divine the dawn.
Magpie Tales is a blog “dedicated to the enjoyment of poets and writers, for the purpose of honing their craft, sharing it with like-minded bloggers, and keeping their muses alive and well.” Each week, it offers an image as a writing prompt.
Poseur
In place of words, I pose,
offering the self you rather,
naked of mind,
hidden heart.
In place of words, I play,
masked and costumed,
sightless
and
mute.
It’s been more than a dozen years since I rented a table at a craft fair. The last time was when I lived in Albany and was making and selling my own design of “shoulder shawls.”
I will have a few for sale on November 23 at St. Marks Art and Craft Fair here in East Longmeadow. (If you don’t live in nearby and see anything you might like to buy, leave a comment on this post and I will get back to you. I will let you know if I can get it to you before the holidays. Chances are, I can.
Mostly I will have is what I’m calling “fun knits for fashion-forward females,” or “fun wearables for tweens, teens, and the young at heart.” Just about every one of these items is my own design, and they are all one-of-a-kind because I make them up as I go along. If you have a young girl in your family, these make great Christmas gifts or stocking stuffers.
Recently I drafted a young neighbor to model a few of the things I will be selling. Here’s a glimpse of somethings for teens.
I will have some fun stuff for little girls as well: leg warmers, hand warmers and some sets. As with most of my legwarmers and boot socks, they can worn right side up, upside down, with our without a decorative band, and folded up or down. Lots of choices.
These are examples of some of my multi-purpose machine washable and dryable boot socks/leg warmers. You can wear them as either. Most are one-size-fits all.
And, I will have an assortment of wristlets/handwarmers in a variety of sizes. They are made to keep your fingers free and hands warm for texting, driving, eating, shopping, and reading. Some have ruffles, so they are just fun to wear. And they can be pulled up to become wrist warmers if you need your hands completely free. I made a pair for a woman in a nursing home whose hands were always cold but wearing gloves all of the time was a nuisance. This is an example of a no-frills basic pair, shown as both a hand warmer and wrist warmer.
Above are examples of ruffled wristlets and also an example of how you can layer a pair over thinner gloves. Lots of choices.
Finally, here are some images from the internet of examples of how to wear the kinds of knit accessories I will be selling. Hope to see you at St Mark’s Art and Craft Fair.
A little over a year ago, I shared my experiment with adding a layer to a t-shirt so that I didn’t have to wear a bra. I decided that fusing an image onto the front makes the fabric too stiff.
Since then, I’ve been trying a some different ways to do it. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but I’m not a perfectionist, and I found an easy way that works for me. Someone has asked me about how I do it, so I’m sharing my process here.
Although I am pretty much a size 12/14, I buy t-shirts in an X-large or even a 1X. If you’re not going to wear a bra and you don’t want to look like you’re not wearing a bra, then you really need a roomy knit top to work with. And the knit needs to be substantial — not the sheer or flimsy jersey kind you find at places like Old Navy. You don’t want the fabric to cling to you.
I have found that the best and least expensive t-shirts to use are made by Croft and Barrow (Kohls), Cabin Creek (JCP), White Stag and Just My Size (Walmart). Make sure that they are not the “fitted” style but are more boxy. A longer tunic works well too.
T-shirts with stripes or graphics also work best because they makes it easier to figure out where to do the top-stitching on the front. You can just follow along one or more stripes or you can incorporate top stitching into the graphic.
You can use any kind of knit fabric for the liner. I recycle old t-shirts for that purpose because the fabric doesn’t run. I don’t even bother hemming the edges. You can also buy really cheap t-shirts to cut up at CVS or Walgreens. I buy the largest size they have so that I can make several liners out of one t-shirt.
Here, for example, is tie-dyed tunic onto which I sewed a lining so that I could wear it without a bra.
I measured a rectangle shape that would be large enough to cover my breasts and cut out a double layer from an old grey t-shirt. I pinned and then hand-basted the rectangular double layer onto the inside of the front of the shirt, positioning it so that I could top-stitch along the front design. I used a decorative stitch, but a zig-zag would do just as well.
This is what it looks like on the inside.
This is what the top stitching looks like.
You can make the liner go all the way down to your waist if you want to. Since it’s not attached at the sides, if it’s longer, you can tuck it into your pants or skirt, leaving the shirt itself loose. You can also use several layers of the knit for the liner if you feel more comfortable with more coverage.
It’s best not to use a ribbed knit t-shirt because top stitching is harder to do; the ribbing stretches out and pulls the shirt out of shape. It can be done, however.
Here’s a ribbed tank top that I lined.
outside front
inside front
Here’s what the front of a solid navy t-shirt looks like with decorative top-stitching that looks a little like trapunto quilting.
Here’s what it looks like on the inside.
As I said, I’m not a perfectionist, so I don’t worry how the liner looks on the inside. Someone who is more meticulous, however, can adapt my method to work for them. If anyone reads this and tries it, I would love to see what you did and how you were able to improve on my idea.
I wish that some clothing designer would create ready-to-wear roomy t-shirts with nicely designed trapunto or quilted or appliqued fronts that camouflage the lining and adequately disguise a jiggling bare breast. (And I don’t mean appliques of cats or dogs or Christmas trees; art reproductions or original fabric art would be perfect, I think.)
This is something I posted during my second month of blogging back in 2001. I wrote some great stuff back then. I had posted a “best of Kalilily” for those early days, for which the links don’t work. So when I fix them, I’ll reprise the post here.
Big Picture, Little Picture
So, there are some discussions going these days on about the purpose and value of weblogs. Oddly enough, the other night at my bi-monthly group meeting, I mentioned that I had begun a weblog, and I was asked to explain what that was and why I was doing it, and why I just wasn’t keeping a journal. As I’ve said, I’ve unsuccessfully tried keeping journals before and I write so much slower than I think that I got frustrated and quit. I can type almost as fast as I think (I got used to doing that at the job from which I retired last year, which involved mostly whipping out quick documents for others to share and claim as their own.) So, it’s easier to do it on the computer. And why don’t I just keep a journal on disk, I was asked. The truth is, I admitted, is that I’m used to writing for an audience. And I like having an audience. Even my poems are usually written with an audience (sometimes of one) in mind. It’s why I ballroom dance. I’m a performer at heart. I need ways to say to the world: this is who I am. Look at me. Pay attention. It seems to me that that’s at the heart of why everyone else who keeps a blog does so. In a world where we all have to live up to expectations and assume roles for survival purposes (our own and others) — caregiver, mother, employee, citizen — it’s so satisfying to have a place where one can BE who one is. Or in some cases, where one can BE who one wants to BE. It really doesn’t matter. We can create who we want to be or be creative with who we are. Either way, one has an identity, a voice. In a way, it’s kind of a new art form — or at least it can evolve in some cases into such. How cool is that!
One of the advantages of being post menopausal is that I no longer get the raging PMS that — in retrospect — I think was responsible for messing up my various relationships, including that with my parents.
Back in the 50s and 60s and 70s, PMS was considered a fabricated rationale for plain ol’ female bitchiness. Now, we know better, and I know that what I (and my friends and family) had to suffer through was actually my PMDD.
It’s hard to describe what it felt like to go through those terrible fits of insanity to those who have never experienced it. So, at the time, I wrote this poem — which, I think, pretty much says it all.
A sliver of moon
like a sharpened claw
slits the underside of April,
sending clouds as heaving as stones
onto the roiling rim of earth.
It is time for the Tooth Mother’s coming.
She tears through my skin,
talons sharp as the moon,
eyes that slice, breasts like scythes
along my hungry tongue.
She breathes into my mouth
the bold remains of winter,
turning my cries to ice,
my thoughts to stones
that roll like clouds
along my ragged edge of mind.
To Walk in His
He built his palette
around the ragged colors
of her tortoise-shell calico,
piled like earth
in a sunny corner.
His worn soul
embraced the folds
of those crumpled old shoes,
shredded laces, wilted leather
scuffed with the stuff of a life
that beat paths through
fields of irises, sunflowers, wheat,
the streets of Arles, and
dreams lost to the night sky.
© Elaine Frankonis
Well, almost.
Aaron stuck a stick in the ground and it flowered.
I stuck a willow branch in the ground and it’s budding.
The branch is from our Japanese willow tree . It will be a bush rather than a tree, but otherwise will look the same.
I wonder if Aaron’s rod was really a thick willow branch, which roots very easily and buds quickly.
Willow trees are part of my Polish heritage; they grow all along fences and stables and wayside shrines throughout old Poland. I have a collection of translated prose and poetry from 1945 called “Wayside Willow.” It is a first edition, signed by the editor and all of the contributors. The dust jacket is missing, although the flyleaf portion is stuck inside like a bookmark. It was a gift to my Dad, who was very active and well-known in the downstate New York Polish community. It comes with me wherever I go. I have to admit that I have never read through the entire publication. Maybe today, Father’s Day, is a good time to do that.
The willow has a rich mythology, some of it controversial.
The above link says that I am a willow person….
Willow people (i.e. those born in March) are beautiful but full of melancholy, are attractive and very empathic, they like anything beautiful and tasteful and love to travel, they are dreamers and restless, capricious and honest, they are easily influenced but are not easy to live with being demanding, they have good intuition, but suffer in love and sometimes need to find an anchoring partner.
…but the truth is that I don’t like to travel, I am not easily influenced, and I’m awfully easy to live with. As for the rest, I’m not sure that I can be objective.