Archive for March, 2008

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At the End of the Day

Sunday, March 30th, 2008

Charlotte Croft has sent a photo that is both meaningful and artistic. Recently, she took an unexpected trip to Illinois to “say goodbye” to her dear father who had passed away. The photo speaks of beauty found at an unexpected time. Sunlight and moonlight are heaven sent.

Things made by man are transient, as are we all. We are but a blip on the radar, and then, we are gone. In the meantime, it is wise to enjoy beauty wherever we observe it: in the sparkling eyes of a child, the roaring waves of the ocean, crashing upon the rocks, or in the fleeting appearance of spring blooms. At the end of any day, we can only hope that we have done our best.

A beautiful sky image taken by Charlotte Croft

Thanks, Charlotte, for all that you share, and all that you do for everyone. We rejoice with you in the happy times, and our hearts are sad, in times of loss.

Charlotte reports having seen many Robins and heard “peepers” on March 2, 2008, a day the daffodils were also blooming in Illinois. She arrived home to tall piles of Vermont snow. Spring should reach New England by May, with any luck.

Patricia Cummings

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New Hampshire: Where the Purple Lilacs Grow

Saturday, March 29th, 2008

There is a song that campers always used to sing at 4-H camp:

I want to wake up, in the mornin’,
Where the purple lilacs grow
Where the sun comes a-peepin’
Into where I’m a-sleepin’
and the songbirds sing “hello.”
I want to wander through the wild woods
Where the fragrant breezes blow.
And drift back to New Hampshire
Where the purple lilacs grow.

The words of this song always make me smile. New Hampshire is a unique state. At that same camp, where I was a counselor in my college days, I remember leaving my cabin at dusk, only to startle a Bobcat, right outside my door. They are not as large as you might think, and they have wisps of hair on their ears.

In this state, I have personally seen sea otters, moose, deer, bear, opossums, raccoons, skunks, fox, beavers, woodchucks, and probably other critters I can’t recall.

Bird life has its seasons. Right now, we are still seeing woodpeckers at the suet feeder. We did not feed bird seed this year, and as a result, we only heard one mouse in the wall all winter. Soon, the hummingbirds will show up in April, and the Orioles will breeze through in May, usually Mother’s Day weekend.

Between the trees, the mountains, the streams, lakes, and ocean, for a small state, New Hampshire has it “all.” It also has the local characters – like me! From time to time, I’ve considered moving, but when push comes to shove, I think I’m planning to stay right here in New Hampshire, where I can hibernate with the bears in the winter, and where the purple lilacs grow … right outside my window!

Happy Spring!

Patricia Cummings

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Happiness: A Few Tips

Thursday, March 27th, 2008

We all are the recipients of “sound bites,” some of more value than others. One statement I heard recently is that people are not happy because they have everything. They are happy because they are grateful for what they already have.

I’ve known many people who live in the future. They live for the time “when we get a bigger house,” “when the kids are all grown up,” or “when the family has more income.” By placing qualifications on what will make them happy and when they will be happy, they are cheating themselves out of the essence of living in the present tense. In a nutshell, perhaps some people need to learn that “doing” is more important than “having.”

It seems that every television show we watch, that deals with the dynamics of human relationships, tries to give advice on how to be healthier, how to maximize our enjoyment of life, and how to live longer. Personally, I don’t think length of life is such a great goal. After knowing what goes on in nursing homes, they don’t seem like such a terrific place to live, although if I had to live there, I’d adjust just fine, I’m sure.

The key to happiness is meaningful work. My love of textiles has provided me with endless amusement, satisfaction at my own constant learning and discoveries, and a feeling that I am doing something useful when I can provide help, or answers, for others. I suppose the feeling that I am contributing significantly to the study of quilt history provides a certain elation. Find out what work you can do that makes you feel joy!

Be happy today! Be happy because you choose to count your blessings, rather than the raindrops, or the snowflakes, as the case may be. Happiness is a mindset, and a do-able task. Notice when you are most happy. You will usually find joy that when you are engaged in work is the best part of the day. Happiness is a feeling that creeps up on you, and even if you notice your sunny outlook for only a moment, your day will be improved. Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone.

Wishing you rainbows,

Patricia Cummings

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Technology Paves the Way for Researchers

Monday, March 24th, 2008

On a television broadcast yesterday, I heard one of the announcers say something about legislation to be voted on in Congress. A new law would attempt to limit the amount of personal information that is made available to the public via software programs that share public records that may sometimes include Social Security numbers of the deceased. Supposedly, the availability of that information is leading to more and more cases of identity theft.

I don’t know whether that is true or not. It seems a bit of a stretch to think of anyone signing up to use an online genealogy base to gather data for a devious and illegal purpose. Thieves being thieves, I would not be surprised, but on the other hand, why punish the multitudes by denying them research information when there are potentially a few “bad apples” who would take advantage of information.

Another question arises and that is why the government is not “on top” of any situation in which anyone would try to use the Social Security number of a deceased party.

Then again, someone hacked into the Social Security information of three major political party contenders for the office of president, so what does this tell us about overall electronic security at the governmental level?

Electronic Mix Ups Common

I am happy to report that my mixed-up credit report is now repaired. It pays to check such things, periodically. Someone recorded a wrong middle initial and suddenly I’d moved 21 times within a few years, had two husbands at the same time, and didn’t pay on some of my credit accounts.

All is well now, after assuring the credit reporting agency that I have lived at the same address for quarter of a century, and with the same husband, and that my middle initial is not the one listed on the initial report.

True enough, we should be vigilant about our personal information. That includes knowing who is around when you pull out a credit card or write a check. Cell phones can take photos, in a flash, and someone can easily access vital credit card or bank account numbers. It would be nice to think that everyone is honest. They are not.

We have to hope that technology will continue to lead the way in assisting researchers by sharing great information about events of the past that have been recorded electronically.

Instead of passing more laws such as the one proposed, perhaps there could be more incentives for government workers to more adequately protect the public-at-large. We have come so far in make vital records available to the general public. Why take a step backward, now?

Patricia Cummings

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Easter

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

Today, Christians around the world celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ who was found to be absent from his tomb, a situation that defied any logical explanation, then or now. During his short lifetime, Christ was both revered and hated. Born a Jew, he was mocked as the “King of the Jews.” The world would revile anyone who called himself, “the Son of God.”

The world’s people often hold in disdain that which is beyond their understanding. That is most certainly true when it comes to people judging others. Each individual always believes in the sanctity of his or her own thoughts and actions. Perhaps, it is just human nature to be that way.

Now, my thoughts turn to the time when I was a child. Easter Saturday was always a time of hurried activity, as Mother made sure the children had something suitable to wear to church the next day. She would color Easter eggs, make a frosted cake, and prepare an Easter basket with chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, and marshmallow chickens, and cover the basket with an overlay of colored cellophane. She’d go to the grocery store to gather up food for a special meal on Easter.

In the family album, there is one picture of me on Easter, standing on the steps of our house. I was very young. I am wearing a dress that is too short, short socks and (no doubt) patent leather shoes. I am holding a black duck, a stuffed animal, given to me by my oldest brother. I look pretty chilled, with my long, skinny legs hanging out in the cold of a New Hampshire early spring.

In those days, women wore the ever-present hat and gloves to church. We listened to corny music, like the “Easter Parade,” on a small turntable that could play 45 RPMs. Sometimes, we went to the park to participate in Easter Egg Hunts. I always wondered how Chocolate Bunnies and colored eggs were incorporated as part of the celebration.

On one particular Easter, my sister who is thirteen years old than me, decided to shock my parents by bringing me the gift of two live chicks. These yellow fluff balls turned out to be loud, crowing adult roosters, much to the annoyance of the neighbors; and pecking beasts who liked to be vicious to the hands that fed them, usually me. So much for bright ideas! We toted them to “the country,” when we later moved to a small town, and they ended up in a neighbor’s stew pot, proving the point that all vicious roosters will meet justice.

Today, is a “different day” than those Easters of my past. As our soldiers pray to a God, whom they hope keeps them safe, and returns them to their families, life has changed for me as well. I am without company today. My loved ones are dead; or far away, with lives and issues of their own; or else, at work, making sure that others have a good day.

The only celebration for me will be to listen to the radio, to do my usual work, and to cling to the promises of the Risen Christ, the only remaining hope for humanity. Nothing is forever, and sometimes, it is great consolation knowing that is also true of this life.

However you spend the day, I wish you a Happy Easter, a harbinger of Spring!

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An Angel’s Love by Bob Rotruck

Saturday, March 22nd, 2008

More poetry from Bob Rotruck:

An Angel’s Love

I’m a very lucky person you know,

I have been blessed by an angel’s glow.

How you ask, can I know for sure,

That angels even exist all glorious and pure.

Trust me, I know, I have seen one in action,

An angel that gives love for pure satisfaction.

This angel has tended her husband for years,

A guy that occasionally brought her to tears.

An angel that raised two wonderful boys,

They’ve become fine men and her greatest joys.

But angels are more than just mothers and wives,

They go above and beyond in the living of their lives.

They take on a task that no other would take,

And do it out of pure love, no pretense or fake.

Such as tending a Mother that was frail in years,

Many times their relationship brought her tears.

But she would go back, day after day,

Because she knew that love was her pay.

She watched this tiny woman so frail,

Day after day she began to fail.

It got real bad down near the end,

But the love of an angel can never bend.

For the one thing that an angels got,

Is the backing of the Father for their lot.

An angel only knows how to share God’s love,

When you’re an angel, God fits like a glove.

Now God has rested this angel dear,

He has taken her Mother to heaven it’s clear.

This angel can rest, she has done her best,

There is no doubt she passed God’s test.

I’m a very lucky person you know,

I can boast I have an angel to show!

God bless you my angel dear,

You are my angel, it’s clear.

Rotruck – ‘02

This poem, as you can see, is dedicated to Bob’s wife. Every woman should have such an appreciative spouse! Thanks for sending this one, Bob, and Happy Easter!

Patricia Cummings — See more of Bob’s poetry in past blog entries and on this website: Quilter’s Muse

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Vermont Quilter Wins Prizes

Friday, March 21st, 2008

Jan Aronson's quilt

Jan Aronson just wanted the judges’ feedback when she entered the quilt seen above into a Venice, Florida show. Instead, she won a few ribbons, as you can see. The photo is sent to us by her friend, Charlotte Croft of Vermont. We think it’s great when friends can celebrate a victory such as this. Congratulations, Jan!

Patricia and James Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Virtual Museum

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Monday, March 17th, 2008

my grandson

Grandson, Patrick, celebrating St. Patrick’s Day 2008.

Today is a day to celebrate the Irish and the Emerald Isle. There is much to be said about the Irish, a land that has been ravaged by the rule of despotic outsiders who plundered and abused; a land that is full of charm because of its music, its beauty, and the loving hearts of those who live there now, or whose ancestors came to America, in desperation, seeking honest work and a day’s pay.

St. Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland in 432 and proselytized until his death in 460 by which time he had converted all of Ireland from paganism. He did not realize that centuries later, Protestants and Catholics would murder each other, in the name of religion. The Celts, early dwellers of Ireland, have left a lasting impact on the country. Some of those people, now believed to have been criminals, were killed and buried in peat bogs, presumably so that they would suffer an endless Purgatory, somewhere between earth and sky. Today, their bodies are being found and they are well preserved due to the chemicals in the sphagnum moss. Scientists can examine their long tresses and determine from hair follicles what they ate, over time. In these kinds of tests, we are learning more about the early people of Ireland.

Wonderful Irish leprachaun cookies and a few bunnies, made by my niece, Amy DeNoble and her daughters. Leprachauns were considered, traditionally, to be grouchy as they had to repair everyone’s shoes.

I prefer to think of the enchantment of leprechauns and folklore of Ireland, the pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow, and “kissing the Blarney Stone.” I dwell on Irish humor, a humor that sometimes has its roots in pain. Sometimes, one has to laugh, because in beginning to cry, the tears would fill a river. Like one Irish aunt of mine was fond of saying, while throwing up her hands, “What can you do?”

This was the same aunt who would ask visitors if they would like a cup of tea. Going to the cupboard, she would find no tea. She’d ask, “Would a cup of coffee do?” Going to the cupboard, she’d find no coffee, too. With nothing else suitable to be found, we’d either settle for nothing, or know, next time, to bring our own refreshments. For many Irish, for many years, the cupboards were always virtually bare. Potatoes were the main fare, and disaster hit with the Potato Famine of the 1800s, causing mass exodus from Ireland.

I can only dream of Ireland and County Kilkenny, land of my ancestors. When I think of Ireland, in color, that color is green. Of course, there is the Irish shamrock, its three petals symbolizing the Holy Trinity. There are the green fields of Ireland, immortalized in song and representing the four sectors, one of which is primarily Protestant and English in the industrialized north. “Four Green Fields,” a song written by the late Tommy Makem commemorates this bit of Irish history.
On St. Patrick’s Day, some people celebrate by drinking green beer. Not being a drinker, that would not be me. Nor will I enjoy any (dry) Irish soda bread, nor briny corned beef.

Today, I hope to find time to listen to some of my favorite songs including one hilarious one that includes the statement about a “dearie” – “pulling ‘them’ up and pulling them down and forgot to pull down the shade.” I’ll have to listen to the song again to remember the context of the statement. To me, it presents a funny image. Oh, what is life without humor? I would hate to know!

Whether you bake a cake and add green frosting, croon an Irish tune, or watch a St. Patrick’s Day parade … or even make an Irish quilt today … have fun! Even if you are not Irish, you can still have fun! And, for heaven’s sake, whether you are getting dressed or undressed, please remember to pull down the shade! Erin Go Bragh!

Patricia Cummings

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Mist in the Morning by Bob Rotruck

Saturday, March 15th, 2008

Like many other creative artists and writers, Bob Rotruck believes that the words of his poetry come through him from a Higher Source. I take great pleasure in sharing his poem, written in 1994.

Canada

A Misty Morning in Canada. Photo by James Cummings, 2007.

“Mist in the Morning”

I awaken and look at the fresh new day
I seek the bright sun and its first ray.
But this day a pale mist hangs over the east,
It is a beautiful quietness for my eyes to feast.
What is it you see that quiets the mind?
What is it you seek for your eye to find?
A shroud of gray mist covers the land,
It is as though nature has put out her hand.
And yet the earth is coming awake.
I wonder how long it will take,
For birds and bees to look for food,
For the moisture on a leaf to do some good.
See how the mist makes the earth glisten?
Pause for a moment and just listen.
Hear the droplets of moisture fall down,
Kissing the earth it will never be found.
Maybe this drop will make a green thing grow
Perhaps it will grow to be food for a doe.
Or perhaps a tall tree it may become
To cast shade from the sun where heat comes from.
Someday this tree may push clear to the top.
And on the morn the fog it will stop,
And gather the drops of a gray mist,
It holds them there no drops it insists.
It waits for someone to listen I know,
The gray mist waits to display its show.

ROTRUCK – ’94

Please see more of Bob Rotruck’s poetry on our website by accessing the word search function on the front page. There is also a file about his grandmother and her quilts.

Patricia Cummings, Quilter’s Muse Publications and Virtual Museum

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Andrea Bocelli’s music

Friday, March 14th, 2008

Andrea Bocelli’s music is wonderful. He is one of my favorite musical artists and this past winter, I’ve enjoyed his concerts on PBS and the interview they did with him. His voice is soothing and his choice of songs, delightful. His songs in Italian make me wish I spoke Italian. One song that he sings that I do understand is in Spanish, called “Bésame Mucho.”

In seeking more information about this particular song, I found out that it was written in the 1940s by a Mexican woman who died in 2005 at the age of 88. Her name is Consuelo Velazquez (I’d put an accent mark on the “a” in her last name, but this particular blog program does not recognize the computer signals for that accented letter designation).

In part, the haunting lyrics say: “Kiss me much … as if it were the last time.” Off hand, I would say that those words were very appropriate, if written in the 1940s, wouldn’t you?

Andrea Bocelli’s CDs are sold on amazon and in various music stores. You Tube had had a link to this song performance, but removed it. Perhaps it was an unauthorized taping?

At any rate, if you have the chance, download some of Bocelli’s songs or buy one of his CDs. He is a true talent. The world needs more beautiful souls, like him.

Patricia Cummings

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