Celle and Memories

In years to come, when I look at this sampler, I will think about the long conversations I had with my mother and dad while working on this sampler. Since they are 88 and 84, I really treasure this time.

I don't know about anyone else, but I stitch in memories when I do my needlework. I can look around my house at my needlework and remember when and where I stitched so many pieces. I see my son as a toddler when I look at a crewel surrounded mirror. When I see my flower thread sampler, I think of the yearly trip to the Peaks of Otter in Virginia. My needlework charts my children's growing up years and when I go to the houses of some of my friends and relatives, I see the pieces I have done for them and remember that time again.

When I look at Celle, I will remember this vacation and the time I spent with my granddaughter, Eli (Elizabeth Anne), sitting on the porch watching the birds, and the time I spent talking to my folks. I'll also remember the genealogy side trip to Boonsboro, MD where I saw the same mountains and hills my ancestors knew, and the time I spent with one of my favorite cousins when I researched my Hawn family in PA. In every stitch, I think there is a memory.

I also stopped in Charleston on my way back home and saw the Southern Girlhood exhibit there. It was fantastic and being alone, I could spend as much time as I liked viewing it. I went back and forth between the samplers and a nice little bench out front where there was an antiques magazine on the exhibit. Of course, I would love to have had someone to "ooh and ahh" with, but only a sampler lover would have wanted to take the time I took reading each description and looking over each sampler thoroughly.

Drought

This peaceful stitching vacation is turning out to be more like going to one of those weight-loss camps where they keep you so busy exercising, you don't have time to eat! Virgina is having one of the worst droughts in many years. Actually, I began to see signs of it as soon as I crossed the Florida/Georgia line on my trip up here. The crops are in a pitiful state and it made me feel like crying.

My sister has a lot of plants in her several acre yard and a large garden also. I'm spending most of my days lugging hoses and sprinklers from place to place, hoping that the plants I watered in the morning can survive until it's their turn for water the next day. I feel like I do triage every morning and then head out to treat the most severely wounded all day long. I've never seen such drought. In the evening I hear thunder rumbling in the area and I see dark clouds gathering, but I have yet to see where it rained. I check with my daughter-in-law who lives nearby to see if they got the rain, but they haven't gotten a drop. It isn't the kind of rain that does much good anyway...just a few minutes of downpour and then the steam evaporates before your very eyes. Still, I'd love to have even that little bit of rain.

The garden is struggling along, and I am picking it and canning and freezing what I can, but it isn't much. We have had tomatoes and beans, so I am getting them put up, but there should be three times as much. Last year I had wonderful meals of veggies that came right from the garden to the plate. It has caused me to think of our ancestors who had to live almost totally from what they had grown. I guess I never thought of what a disaster is was to have a season of drought. I shouldn't complain.

So, I haven't had the time to stitch like I wanted. It's also hotter than blue blazes outside, so sitting on the porch isn't as inviting as it was last year. I spoke to someone at the grocery store and she said it was 106 in her back yard. That is beyond miserable. I have managed to do a lot of quilting in the air conditioned house though. I started a wonderful quilt for my granddaughter made from multiple shades of pink which she will love. I also cut out several quilts so I could have them ready when I went home. I shouldn't complain.