Storytorch

At the American Quilters Society Expo in Des Moines this week, I bumped into a longtime friend of mine. She'd come on a bus from eastern Iowa to spend the day at the show. Born Amish, Sara decided twenty years ago at age 50 to become Mennonite. She sold her buggy and her racehorse Henry, bought a minivan, and learned to drive.

At the quilt show, Sara was getting around on a motorized cart. She was garbed as usual in a simple dress of solid color fabric, dark hose, black lace-up shoes, and a small, sheer-fabric bonnet, or kapp.

After bending down for an initial hug, I stood chatting with my friend, both of us catching up on each other's lives. Sara owned and operated a fabric store, and a farm, out in the country for many years, but she's retired now and lives comfortably in town. When I mentioned that my husband Mark and I are thinking about acquiring a dog, she described her two new kittens.

Mozart was rambunctious and overly focused on birds in Sara's feeder outside the picture window, yowling to get out and stalk them, until the arrival of Muffin. Now the two cats cavort happily in the play tube Sara bought for them. Sara tosses catnip toys through a hole in the top of the tube and watches them roll it over the floor for hours at a time.

"I hadn't gotten around to dressing them up until just the other night. My friend Bettina was visiting for the weekend, so I went down in the basement and brought up some doll clothes. Mozart hated it, just hated it, maybe because they were girl doll clothes. But we got some great photos!"

With a hearty laugh and a wave goodbye, Sara pressed a button on her cart and glided smoothly off down the aisle to check out the Art Quilts section of the show.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
Your friends will delight you.

After a week in Houston attending Quilt Market and Quilt Festival, I spent one full day at home in Winterset, unpacking my bag of business-y, city clothes and repacking for a trip to our vacation home in Wisconsin, where my husband Mark awaited me.

Excited by the prospect of a few relaxing days at our newly-rennovated cottage on Washington Island, I focused on packing exactly what I’d need. Because I was flying to Green Bay on a stand-by ticket, I could carry only a small piece of luggage, one I wouldn’t have to check. If I got bumped, my bag might not, and a cruel fate could befall my possessions.

Our little home on Washington Island is an inspiring place to live and breath. The grandeur of Lake Michigan is right outside our door, an ever-changing, always beautiful natural element. On sunny days, light streams through the big windows, bouncing and reflecting on our freshly-plastered walls. Because the the property sits above a shallow cove, impressive, foam-edged breakers roll constantly to shore on days the wind is up.

What would I do with my three days at Sunrise Cottage? Might I feel ready to start the longer work of fiction I plan to write? My laptop would fit in my bag, so any writing projects mundane or magnificent were covered. Would I prefer to sew, sitting at my table on the wide east porch with its nine windows? Just in case, I cut dozens of flannel rectangles in masculine browns, blacks, blues, and tans so I could easily start the Bricks quilt I intend to give this Christmas to a friend.

Concluding my packing late in the day, atop the essentials for my favorite pursuits, I tucked in warm pants, socks, and gloves. Next morning, I’d zip up my bag and go.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will be prepared.

The other day, after many weeks of absence, I returned to yoga practice in my home town of Winterset. With my rolled yoga mat tucked under my arm, I scooted over to the little studio that is less than a block from home.

Once on the floor, legs folded in front of me, I looked around the room, enjoying the familiarity of its details: the scroll design of the sheer curtains on the wide windows, the artwork on the walls, and the reassuring presence of my teacher Tia at the front of the class.

As all yoginis know, the goal in practice is to concentrate on one's breath, ridding the mind of distractions. My thoughts wander, though, and that day, as we moved from pose to pose, I considered their names and what each signifies. 

In Bridge, I thought of bridges—how they span divides, enable travel, connect people. In Table, I envisioned tables, spread with meals, spread with paperwork, spread with fabric and thread.

As Tia coached us through our Warriors, I thought of distant battles and their fighters, conflicts more intense and overt than those we face daily in a small American town. My mind returned to my recent trip to Scotland, when my husband Mark and I visited a museum on the Isle of Skye. Posted on one wall was a poem in Gaellic, written in 1411, a pep talk for McDonald clansmen who would be at war next day. Beside the verse, a translation in English was provided.

In my life, living all my years in a peaceful land, I have been on no real battlefield. I have pointed no sword, aimed no gun at fellow man. But courage welled up, expanding my heart, as I read line after ancient line, just as it does each time I stand in Warrior on my yoga mat.

The Incitement to Battle
Harlaw, 1411

by Lachlann Mor MacMhuirich

O Children of Conn, remember
Hardihood in time of battle:
Be watchful, daring,
Be dextrous, winning renown,
Be vigorous, pre-eminent,
Be strong, brave,
Be valiant, triumphant,
Be resolute, fierce,
Be forceful and stand your ground,
Be nimble, valourous,
Be well-equipped, handsomely accoutred,
Be dominant, watchful,
Be fervid, pugnacious,
Be dour, inspiring fear,
Be ready for action, warrior-like,
Be prompt,
Be exceedingly, recklessly daring,
Be prepared, willing,
Be numerous, giving battle,
Be fiery, fully-ready,
Be strong, dealing swift blows,
Be spirited, inflicting great wounds,
Be stout-hearted, martial,
Be venomous, implacable,
Be fearless,
Be swift, performing great deeds,
Be glorious, nobly powerful,
Be rapid in movement, very quick,
Be valiant, princely,
Be acting, exceedingly bold,
Be ready, fresh and comely,
Be king-like,
Be eager, be successful,
Be unflurried, striking excellent blows,
Be compact in your ranks, elated,
Be vigorous, nimble-footed,
In winning the battle against your enemies.
O Children of Conn of the Hundred Battles.
Now is the time for you to win recognition,
O raging whelps,
O sturdy heroes,
O most sprightly lions,
O battle-loving warriors,
O brave, heroic firebrands,
The Children of Conn of the Hundred Battles,
O Children of Conn, remember
Hardihood in time of battle.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will admire the Scottish.

My daughter Mary is immersed a year-long "art/life" project, primarily because she is a living artist, but also because she has been intrigued by the works of artist Linda Montano. In addition, Mary's husband is away for a year of training in the US Army Reserves. Her art/life project is a lively diversion that might also be a bit restrictive for a full time roommate.

Mary describes art/life in full on her blog PaperGirl, but one aspect of the year involves wearing a single color each month. She started in June with yellow. July was blue, June purple, and today, September 1, she transitioned from purple to orange.

I traveled from Winterset to Chicago Sunday because an examination under aneasthesia was scheduled for Mary Monday at Northwestern Hospital. Apparently, she has a tiny leak in her new internal plumbing system, one that her doctor repaired with, well, glue.

Yesterday afternoon, while Mary was still groggy in her hospital bed, I went on an orange clothing shopping mission on Michigan Avenue. Mary's sister Rebecca made a first foray Sunday, hitting sale racks at Gap, Banana Republic, H & M, and others, returning with fantastic orange shorts, a great scarf, and a flowy maxi dress. I went straight to Macy's at Watertower Place.

Shopping for one color only is an unique experience. Stepping off the escalator, you scan the retail horizon, hyperfocused. The blacks, grays, and deep reds of your entire shopping history are invisible to you. Interestingly, you can cover an entire floor of a huge department store in under ten minutes.

I found a darling tie-dye dress, a peasanty print blouse, and the perfect T-shirt, all at 70% off.

Heading back to the hospital for show-and-tell, I exited to the Magnificent Mile via American Girl Place. Strangely, as I bustled through with my shopping bags, I scanned the racks for tiny, orange doll clothes for a moment or two, then pulled myself together.

Mary is home today, dressed in juicy orange.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will find some bargains.

My husband Mark and I left the US for our recent trip to Scotland from Washington Island, Wisconsin, rather than Iowa. For various logistical reasons, the car available to take to the Green Bay airport was my little two-seater.

In planning our trip, Mark set up the air travel; I arranged hotel accommodations and rented a car. We would be making a giant loop through northern Scotland—Glasgow, Edinburgh, Inverness, Isle of Skye, and then back to Glasgow for the flight home.

About to click on a standard transmission (the norm in Europe), mid-size vehicle, I noticed the "luxury" option a few lines down on the Orbitz chart. For not that much more, Hertz would rent us an automatic transmission Mercedez-Benz! Thinking about the hundreds of miles we'd be driving on the right hand side of the road, from the right side seat of the car, I splurged.

As we sped along the M-way from Glasgow to Edinburgh, we developed our new mantra: stay right, look left, stay left, look right. Mark, who drove a right-side-drive standard-shift VW bug in the US his senior year in high school, kept his cool. In the left seat, I navigated us to our Edinburgh hotel, along major thoroughfares that changed street names almost every block.

Over our nine day journey, sorry to say, I declined to learn a new skill. With the ability you'd expect from a former commercial B-757 pilot, Mark negotiated incredibly tight turns in pouring rain enroute Inverness, kept us safely in unbelievably narrow lanes enroute the Isle of Skye, held steady through single-vehicle underpasses on each leg, and did not flinch when meeting Scottish lorries and double-decker tour buses. The Mercedes hummed.

Back in Green Bay, we loaded the luggage into my little red car. Now the designated driver, and using all six forward gears, I brought us home to Winterset. With one suitcase strapped on the arm rest between us, Mark couldn't see much of me. Instead, he gazed out the window at the beautiful shoulders of the standard American highway.

Today's Fortune Cookie Fortune:
You will appreciate the ability of others.