Starting a sewing adventure

   I can crochet. I can do cross-stitch. I can do a little embroidery.

But I can’t sew. And I want to.

A little background: when my mother still sewed, she was a wonderful seamstress. She could make anything—dresses, blouses, shirts, pants, quilts—and did it beautifully. As a child, I watched her sew and imagined that one day I would do it.

When I was 14, my mother let me take a sewing class through the local recreation department.



Here I am at 14 sewing in class.



I managed to make a drawstring skirt. But I remembered nothing afterwards about how I had accomplished it.

Flash forward 30 years. I decided I wanted to give sewing another try, so my husband bought me a great sewing machine for Christmas in 2007.

My sewing machine.

I managed to push through my procrastination and anxiety and learned to use the machine. I made some pillows and cut out blocks to make a little quilt. I didn’t do a great job, but I was learning.

Then things went south for my mental health—I went through an episode of depression and extreme anxiety, the worst anxiety and fear that I’d ever experienced. And the cover stayed on the sewing machine.

It’s been sitting downstairs in the basement in my work area ever since. But I periodically thought about it and kept telling myself that some day I would learn.

Last week, for reasons I still don’t understand, I felt the need and the energy to go downstairs and clear away the things I’d stacked around the sewing machine. I made room on my worktable. I dusted everything.

And Sunday night I sat down and loaded up a bobbin and rethreaded the machine.

It wasn’t easy. I didn’t remember how to do it, so I had to follow the instructions in the user manual, some of which I didn’t understand. Larry helped me and we finally got it done.

I took out fabric and looked over some patterns I have.

I decided to make an apron for Larry since he does more cooking than he used to do. It won’t be a feminine apron—I’m using material covered in a Virginia Tech motif. Virginia Tech is his alma mater.

Fabric with a Virginia Tech theme.

I’m going to try this. I know it won’t be perfect. I can’t guarantee that it will even be good. But something in me wants to try.

I’ve again pushed through the procrastination and the anxiety. I don’t know if it’s therapy, medication or both, but I’m feeling more like doing things.

And I want to make something for my husband.

Do you sew or do other crafts? What was the last thing you made, or what is your current project? Does anxiety or depression ever get in the way of enjoying your activities?

How do you define a balanced life?

“Live a balanced life—learn some and think some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work some everyday some.” Robert Fulghum

“Life is like riding a bicycle—in order to keep your balance, you must keep moving.” Albert Einstein

How do you define a balanced life? How do you live it?

Words of Thomas Merton

“Only the man who has had to face despair is really convinced that he needs mercy. Those who do not want mercy never seek it. It is better to find God on the threshold of despair than to risk our lives in a complacency that has never felt the need of forgiveness. A life that is without problems may literally be more hopeless than one that always verges on despair.” Thomas Merton

Your thoughts on this?

The 4th of July and the Declaration of Independence

Today is Independence Day in the United States, the day we celebrate the birth of our nation on July 4, 1776.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Us_declaration_independence.jpg

One of the things I look forward to hearing on the 4^th of July is the reading of the Declaration of Independence by NPR staff. Every year, staff members of the news organization individually read a part of the whole document.

Here’s the link.

  Have a happy 4^th of July and stay safe!

Books: Wonderful things indeed

Some books on my "read soon" list. My Nook sits on top.

Books on bookshelves and on bedside tables at home; books in the public library; books in bookstores: I love to be surrounded by books.

My love affair with books began when I was a child. I remember taking books down from the bookshelves in the living room before I could read. I searched the pages for the one word that I knew, the word “the.” I ran my finger along the sentences until I saw my word, and then I would say it aloud: “the.”

I don’t remember learning to read. I just remember being able to read and loving it.

Even as a child, I enjoyed reading more than one book at a time. I carried a little stack of three or four books around with me, from one reading spot to another, entering first one world and then another as I switched from book to book.

I probably very much needed books as a child. Sometimes I needed the comfort, and I certainly needed something constructive and beautiful to do while I waited in hospital waiting rooms, doctor’s offices and at relatives’ homes.

I loved mysteries from the start. My favorites were the Trixie Belden books and the Nancy Drew books. I also loved the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, books by Maud Hart Lovelace and any book about horses.

I liked biographies, too, especially about strong women who made their way in the world like Amelia Earhart.

I like to say I practically grew up in our local public library. I loved walking the aisles, looking for something new. I loved the smell of the library. I loved the quiet. I loved the love of books that hung in the air.

During high school, I usually had a pleasure reading book with me so that, if I finished my work in class before everyone else did, I could bring it out and read a few pages before class picked back up.

I loved books so much I majored in English in college and got a master’s in English.

I have written before how obsessive-compulsive disorder has affected my reading on and off for years. I obsessed over whether or not I had “really” read every word and would reread passages until it felt “right” to move on.

It’s one of the most awful ways OCD has affected me because it hits at part of what defines me.

Thankfully, I can now usually push through the obsessions and keep reading until the anxiety subsides.

Most of the fiction books I read now are mysteries and thrillers. My favorite authors in those categories include Sue Grafton, Kathy Reichs, Meg Gardiner, Lee Child and Nevada Barr.

I also enjoy memoirs and other nonfiction books. Some recent reads include

*The Mindful Writer: Noble Truths of the Writing Life. By Dinty W. Moore

*The Foreign Language of Friends. By Nadine Feldman.

*Here If You Need Me. By Kate Braestrup.

*Blue Nights. By Joan Didion

*The Memoir Project. By Marion Roach Smith

Some books I hope to start soon:

*Behind the Beautiful Forever. By Katherine Boo

*The Animal Manifesto. By Marc Bekoff

*Freedom from Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. By Jonathan Grayson, PhD

*The Affair. By Lee Child

*Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail. By Cheryl Strayed

  How much do you like to read? What are some of your favorites? What have you read lately? Please share!

Kitty needs a home: June is Adopt-a-Shelter-Cat Month

Waddles

On Wednesdays, I write about wonderful things in my life. Today I’m writing about cats—not just my cats, but homeless cats.

June is Adopt-a-Shelter-Cat Month, and I’m taking the opportunity to encourage you, if you are thinking of getting a cat for a pet, to consider adopting from your local shelter.

I’ve written about my love of cats before. I have a page on this blog devoted to my cats. And I’ve written about my Waddles, who died last November, and how I came to have her.

In a nutshell, my mother adopted Waddles when she was 8 years old, after her original person died.

My mother was not familiar with cats and wasn’t able to cope with having one. She eventually turned Wa in to the local shelter.

I adopted Wa myself the next day from that shelter.

I remember how dreary the animal shelter was then. Wa was being kept in a small room with just two or three cages in it. I was so glad to get her out of there.

That shelter is in much better shape now, and there are many fine shelters around the country and in other countries that are doing good work.

But they can’t keep all the homeless cats and dogs that come to them.

According to the Humane Society of the United States, six to eight million pets come to shelters each year, and half of them will probably never be adopted.

In my own county, during fiscal year 2011, 148 cats were adopted and 1,039 cats were euthanized, and 492 dogs were adopted and 429 were euthanized.

Animals in shelters need homes. Many of them were given up by previous owners for various reasons. They’ve had homes before. Some have never had real homes, but have lived on the streets or on the kindness of people who fed them but never claimed them. They all need forever homes.

Again according to the Humane Society, adopting a pet from a shelter or rescue group can cost less than purchasing one from a pet store or a breeder. And you can find purebred animals in shelters and with rescue groups.

Animals in general and cats in particular are very important to me. They teach me the joy of caring for other creatures. They teach me mindfulness and living in the moment. They remind me of unconditional love.

Spending time with my cats soothes my anxiety and helps to give me a clear perspective on what matters in my life.

Learning to care for Wa and then all of the cats Larry and I have had got me beyond a lot of my contamination obsessive-compulsive disorder symptoms. I don’t enjoy it, but I can clean up kitty poop and throw-up without obsessing over it or getting compulsive.

Caring for cats also helped me with my harm obsessions. I had to learn that the cats needed to be fed regardless of how worried I was about giving them something that would hurt them. And I got a lot of practice doing it.

I got home late Tuesday night because it was layout day for the newspaper I work for. Chase greeted me with happy cries (OK, I interpreted them as happy) and let me hug on him. Sam followed me into the bedroom, and I made over her before giving treats to both cats. Later, Sam and I played with a ball with a little bell in it. That girl is adept at swinging her paw and hitting the ball.

My heart hurts for the homeless animals out there and for those who will never have a home. If you want a cat and you are able to take care of one, please consider adopting.

What place do animals have in your life? What special pets have you had?

Play a song: The power of music

Girls at the Piano, by Renoir. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Renoir23.jpg.

I’ve written about books and cats and mandalas and other things I love, but I haven’t written much about music, other than my post earlier this week about my first piano recital.

Music can be one of my most effective anxiety busters. It has the power to change my perspective.

I listen to music for different reasons: to relax, for pure enjoyment, to feel more energetic, to think, to not think, while reminiscing, to inspire myself.

Some nights, I play music to help me fall asleep. These two CDs usually put me out—I usually wake up later and realize I never heard the end of the CD—Yoga Journal “Pure Relaxation” and Lifescapes “Meditations: Native American Flute.”

Monday night, Larry and I listened to some music by the Bee Gees in remembrance of Robin Gibb and the loss of the musical group. We sang along and in a real way rejoiced in the music, even though we felt sad.

I have sung, played music on the piano and organ, and listened to music most of my life. Some of my earliest memories involve music.

When I was perhaps 6 or 7 years old, my mother got a boxer puppy, Boots. While he was a puppy, she kept him on the enclosed back porch, with the fireplace guard around him to keep him from wandering.

Boots didn’t like to be alone. When he was, he would cry.

I couldn’t stand to hear him cry. He sounded so sad and lonely. So I would sit on the floor beside him and talk to him. I also sang to him from the Methodist hymnbook. One of my favorite hymns was “Standing on the Promises,” and Boots heard that one a lot.

My taste in music grew as I grew older. I spent my teen years listening to a lot of John Denver. I still like listening to his music.

College widened my musical world as I listened to roommates’ favorites that became my favorites. My dorm was full of a wide variety of music: James Taylor; Linda Ronstadt; Carly Simon; the Commodores; the Beatles; Peter, Paul and Mary; the Rolling Stones, the Go-Go’s. Have you ever heard of such a combination of music?

As I grew older, I became more interested in folk and bluesy music. I discovered Van Morrison and Nanci Griffith.

I can’t pin down my favorite type of music or even my favorite artist, though I suppose if I had to choose a favorite singer, it would be Alison Krauss. She has the voice of an angel and can harmonize beautifully with anyone.

I took a look at my playlist in my iPod and found evidence of my inability to focus on one type of music. Here are some of the artists:

Alison Krauss

Alan Jackson

Amanda Marshall

Bon Jovi

Bruce Springsteen

CeCe Winans

Celine Dion

David Cook

Dixie Chicks

The Eagles

Elton John

Gordon Lighfoot

Hootie and the Blowfish

James Taylor

John Denver

Josh Groban

Judy Collins

Kate Rusby

Luther Vandross

Martina McBride

Mary Chapin Carpenter

Miriam Makeba

Roberta Flack

Sarah McLachlan

Sheryl Crow

On Monday, I listened to Amanda Marshall’s “Believe in You” while I was walking. I thought about how the message of the song means so much to me. I feel like it’s a message that I want to give to others.

So I leave you with her song. And yes, dear readers, I believe in you.

What does music mean to you? What role does it play in your life? What are your favorites?