The thread...

My Abuelita would tell me that at the age of two her great-aunts showed her how to knit and crochet. My Granmo told me that when she was three years old, her grandmother Eulalia would sit beside her and give her something to embroider. August has been curious when she has seen me sew, knit or crochet. However, it wasn't until we were cutting through an aisle of the craft store that she stopped me and said,"Mommy, I want to do that!" She was pointing to the wooden embroidery hoops and floss.

"How do you know about this, August?" She didn't answer and continued to jump and excitedly point to the hoops saying only "This, this, this!" While I own embroidery supplies I have not worked on anything in five years and she hadn't even seen my supplies because I haven't unpacked them. We had seen photos of completed pieces on Instagram and I thought maybe this was her introduction.

She picked out floss and I chose the smallest wooden hoop. Once we got home she wanted to begin right away. I cut some canvas from my stash and showed her how to place it in the frame. Then she threaded the embroidery needle with her little hands and we began. I could feel myself melting into the couch. It was relaxing watching her carefully and slowly take the needle in and out of the fabric. I also felt a connection to the long line of women who had brought us to this moment.

I had to take photos because I didn't know when she'd want to do this again. Her first embroidery project. It lasted thirty minutes or so. When she felt the project was complete, we put it away but I kept returning to it. I even carried it in my purse during a week of errands just because. She asked for her embroidery bag again and I showed her how to make little stitches and she enthusiastically worked on that. With  each stitch she gave herself encouragement. I took photos to print and send to my Granmo.

My Granmo showed me some baby clothes she had made for my father one summer. They were simple pieces made from white cotton muslin. I asked her how she made the elegant designs on the front of each piece and she showed me how to pull thread. The next day she had a piece of white cotton fabric and showed me an easy pattern. I know how to pull thread. It doesn't feel good knowing how to do something then never using that skill or passing it on.

Its  been a month and she hasn't asked to embroider. She has been asking me for a sewing machine. I have been working on her Halloween costume. She'd pick up the scraps and sit under the table while I sewed on my machine and she sewed using her pretend machine made of blocks. I remember doing this beside my mother while she sewed.

Cozy Day, Cozy Night

In Texas. In the winter, in Texas, if you sit around waiting for an idyllic cozy night, one that you read about, one based on cozy nights in places like Vermont or Connecticut... You will never have a cozy night. You make do.

August and I woke up to a dark morning this week. So dark we had to turn on the lights to play and cut out paper dolls. It rained all day and the floor was chilly. Our first cozy day, a day of soups and toasty drinks, sweaters and baking.

We played paper dolls and left incredible messes all over the house. We lounged in the living room the entire dreary day. We watched movies and musicals.  I introduced her to The Sonny and Cher show. I tried to bundle her up in comfortable clothing but she spent the day in her panties and layers of baby blankets. 

I didn't really have the desire to bake much. I wanted the oven on, I wanted cozy aromas. I created a very sorry, very sad berry pie. It was made using two frozen pie crusts and frozen berries with leftover organic, all natural cherry juice left from the organic and all natural maraschino cherries I bought for a fruitcake last month. It smelled great while baking and we gobbled up the warm cherry flavored pastry for dessert in the evening. It was flaky and light and really quite a surprise. However, it began to look weary and stale and all things ugly once it cooled. We had eaten more than enough so I tossed out the little that was left and felt slightly guilty. 

A chilly rainy night it was with a downpour around 6pm. I washed away the guilt with fresh wassail made from juicing a pineapple and an apple then squeezing juice from three types of oranges...some zest and spices and again the house smelled welcoming and wintry.  Should we watch a movie, cuddle under covers and read or play a game? Instead we sat at the couch and turned on the radio. 

August and I sipped on our sweet drinks and I asked her questions like: What was your favorite thing to do, so far, this week? She replied it was Monday's trip to the skating rink, her first. She was the youngest child there and had no helmet or padding of any kind. I only tip toed behind her surprised by my own reflexes. After an hour, she took a break and snacked on the bench while I skated for the first time in...years I guess. At least two. There was  that rink in Oklahoma when she was a year old. The warmest feeling all week has been the way she looked at me and smiled and waved as I skated by her. 

Our cozy day and night tapered off with storytime and Christmas songs. I dozed off and then got up to fetch a sweet music box, wooden you snake and some magnetic letters I had stashed high on the closet shelf. I put them around and in August's cowboy boots that were on the table near the nativity scene. Her Epiphany gifts. I checked the forecast for the day ahead and it had a big sunshine. Big sunshines for a long time. Our cozy day was well spent and I wish for more cold and dark, maybe icy days, so we can do this again. 

The Dragonfly Song

Dragonfly, dragonfly, who's chasing whom today?
Dragonfly, dragonfly, inviting me to play.
You're a kite, a funny sight as you zig zag above my head.
You're a funny helicopter, that never seems to land.

Dragonfly, dragonfly, I love to run with you.
Dragonfly, dragonfly, I feel like I'm flying too.
I wish you would, if you could, come fly and twinkle with the moon.

Under the stars with you, would be a wish come true.


~ By Mommy, for August

Little Windows

The ophthalmologist told me I had to continue to wear glasses... at least for a few more weeks. It's only a few weeks that make up one month and then another. There are several pairs of unattractive, cheap glasses around the house because they were something I only wore at home. Once my day was done and my contacts removed and stored away, I'd slip on my glasses. I never wore them out, not even on walks. I find them uncomfortable, impractical , cumbersome, isolating... They make me feel like I am inside something looking out. Little windows that sit in front of me from which I cannot fully take in everything around me. They make me feel shut in.

I can't think right wearing glasses. I can't see or think at all without them. My mornings started when I put on "my eyes", my contacts. I was ready to start my day. Glasses seemed to prolong the process of waking up, not really starting the day because I am unable to feel something, somehow. Most people reach for coffee, I would go put on my eyes. It was more than a transition. Contacts took me out of a blurry world that is annoying and confusing, like being in a dream, or perhaps, I dream completely out of focus. Contacts put me in the real world, a clear one. Glasses don't remove me from a world they allow to look into the one I'd like to be in.

A morning of frustration led me to finally cutting my hair. Having to style my long hair around a pair of glasses only worsened my mood. Without thinking too much I just started cutting. It felt great! It made wearing glasses a bit easier. Now, to pick out a pair of stylish frames. Viewing the world through these little windows is an experience I'll learn to work with.