Going Home

The weekend found me taking that long drive back home to see my Mom. It is not long in distance at all, but long for me with the memory of that early morning phone call that sent me home 3 years ago. That day was the same as this Saturday with cold rain in the air, yellow leaves falling around me and the dark sky. This week will mark 3 years since my Dad slipped from this earth, with very little fuss at all really, it happened so quick with no warning at all that it left the rest of us stunned. This is the time of year I think of Dad the most.....his favourite time of year with all the colours of the trees is what he loved to paint the most.
Last year at this time my Mom was ready to let go of some of his things. The day was spent packing and folding clothes from every closet and dresser. The year before I spent time cleaning out his class room at the college where he was teaching art. I was not sure what this year would bring, but I knew it would be another bit of mt Dad being packed away.
Her list of chores were long, seems that when I think about how much goes into maintaining a home to keep it running smoothly there is always alot of jobs to be done. Jobs that Dad kept up with like every man of the house, but things she cannot do herself. So there were 4 sets of leaking taps fixed, furnace filters changed, sheds cleaned out, stain glass pictures hung, a new vacuum bag installed and 3 floors vacuumed, a fridge cleaned and many other odds and ends completed which was a full day's work.
The end of the day came as a surprise when she mentioned she would like my Dad's studio cleaned out. This was no easy task because I knew it was full. We always called it "Dad's messy studio" and trust me, mine is no different. Untouched for three years, the last painting still on the easel, paint tubes and brushes everywhere, 4 hours later the job was finished. Instead of sending his things to different places like in the past, these things came home with me.
Maybe it is the soul of the artist, but these are the things that connected the two of us together. The hours spent talking about art and working and painting together were the best times for me, we did what we both loved to do....... together.
It is my conclusion that when we lose someone, we don't lose them all at once, we seem to lose them in bits and pieces. Slowly but surely.
The scent of my father is gone from that house, no keys hanging at the back door, no shoes on the mat. I sit in his chair everytime I go home, and I always have the same feeling. I am absolutely stunned to find nothing where something has always been.

Thinking Christmas

Earlier this week I spent the day with a group of ladies that I have been painting with for the last 15 years. Every Thursday morning we would get together at a small studio back in the woods on a country farm owned by a local artist. We would spend most of the day together doing what we all loved to do. Although each of us are artists and we each paint in very different styles, we do seem to inspire each other.
I haven't painted with them in quite sometime, but it felt like I picked up exactly where I left off. Somehow their life stories seem still so familiar, it felt good to be with them again.
When I came home, I started to bring out some Christmas pieces that I have finished in the past. Knowing Christmas is not that far away, I wanted to get started on something new, so it will be finished in time. I am still deciding where to begin, as this process always takes me the most time to figure out. It also seems to early to be thinking about Christmas and it is had to get into the spirit.
This piece I did a few years ago, painted on a small metal tree. Old Victorian Santa, with cardinals, pine cones, flowers and holy.

Thankfulness

As the long weekend approaches and I realize today is Friday, I have to wonder where the week has gone. In a few hours my guys will be home for three days and family plans will begin. A turkey dinner with all the extras for Sunday and visits with Grandparents tomorrow, another canoe trip down the Thames river to see the changing colours of the trees. The weather is going to be warm and sunny so I am really looking forward to this time together.
Every year it is our family tradition to tell each other what we are thankful for as we sit around the dining room table filling ourselves on turkey. I know that my son will say he is thankful for "This Turkey Dinner" as it is the same every year and I know he says it because it was what my Dad always said and it would make him laugh. I believe every year something is new on my list of "thankful" and while everyone waits for my list to be finished so they can eat, they moan and groan and sneak pickles while I am not looking. That is why it is tradition! But this year I will remember to add in "friendship". A special friendship that goes beyond any other. The really good friendship that you treasure so much and work hard at keeping it just right. The kind of friendship that I believe only comes around once in a life time. The friend that would do anything for you and would say she never does enough. The friend who I can talk to for hours and hours and it feels like no time has passed at all. The friend who has enriched my life so much and wouldn't believe it even if I told her over and over. So along with being thankful for my health and my husband and son, family, our home, our love.........I am thankful for her friendship.

For all my Canadian friends, have a wonderful Thanksgiving Weekend!!!

Warm Heart

A sunny and bright beautiful day for fall weather. Don't get me wrong, there is a chill in the wind that makes you remember to take a nice warm sweater with you. Many signs of autumn show up here in my small country town long before the leaves change their colour. Pumpkins line the farmers fields bright orange down every gravel road, fields of sunflowers shine their bright yellow and slow moving tractors pulling wagons filled with tomatoes slow me down on the two lane highway. The local apple orchard is now open, it is what I look forward to the most. Down the back roads, follow the homemade signs and you will find this small family business. No one is ever there, you can just help yourself and the sign reads "please put money in the tin box on the workbench inside the garage". An honor system that I am sure you would never find in the city. I will be back there many times, as I can never have enough apples around here.

I love how this morning the sun glowed off the water of Lake Erie, as I could see bits and pieces of the lake between the farmers trees in the backs of their fields on my way to the city. The sun's rays fell from the sky and sat at the water's edge. My Dad always use to say that the rays were the staircase to Heaven....that makes me smile.
It is a weekly ritual for me to travel into the city to pick up supplies and groceries and run small errands. With the price of fuel and the time it takes, you don't go everyday.

I managed to finish sewing on the binding of my fall quilt this week. The quilt is a project that I have been working on the last two years, a gift from the Mister for Valentines day. (I know...I am so lucky). It was a difficult one to hand quilt because it is made from soft flannels on both sides. The pattern is called "Warm Heart" and the fabrics are from Thimbleberries. It sat for along time in the closet until I decided to tie this one so I could finally use it. I am happy with the way it turned out, it is so heavy and warm and the colours are my favourite. Just in time I would say, possible frost warning for tonight.