The Idoewanna Ceremony

My father was a Native American.  He used to tell us wonderful stories when we were kids.  They were usually pretty short and informative stories but they were always enough to keep my attention and make me hunger for more.  He used to tell us about ceremonies sometimes that were so mysterious and always provoked my curiosity.  He also used to lay on the couch on Sundays watching golf with his eyes closed. 

Sometimes when he did this I would ask him if he'd help me saddle my horse.  He'd reply "Idoewanna."
Sometimes I'd ask him why he was laying down and would he like to go ride with us or do something to which he would reply again "Idoewanna."

In my young mind I always questioned this word.  Is this some ceremony that he hasn't taught us about?  If so, I wanted to learn more about it!  So I would again question him but he'd never reply with more than that one word  - Idoewanna - and continue to lie on the couch with his eyes closed a the t.v. announcer talked in hushed tones about birdies and slices.  I figured that he always did this during golf because it allowed him a quiet background that he could perform this curious ceremony in a calm and quiet way.

Of course, I grew up and realization set in about this mysterious ceremony that he didn't talk about.  When that happened, I thought that I must have been the most clueless kid in the country!  How could I not realize what that was all about!?!?

But adulthood taught me another lesson.... there's something really special about the Idoewanna ceremony.  I learned that it was a very nice thing to utter when my kids were interrupting me on a quiet Sunday afternoon on the couch (sans the golf).  So instead of vacuuming today, I think I'll go indulge in a little ceremony!

Have a great Idoewanna day of your own soon! It's very refreshing.

Vibrant Colors - are they important really?

As I age I tend to wear less and less color.  I don't like the "old lady" shirts with their yoke displays of flowers and birdhouses or declarations of how much my grand kids love me.   ugh... If I could, I'd still wear brilliant purple peasant tops and jewel toned poetry shirts with flowers braided into my hair and the appropriately bright sandals to match! 

I gave up the hair for Locks of Love.  That's o.k., I like my short hair and I have cut it a number of times.  But now I don't seem to want to wear daisies or roses in it anymore.  These things all call too much attention to myself and my looks which have paled significantly as I have grown older.  I still love jeans and jewel tones, I just don't wear them as brilliantly as before.

Except my underwear.  My love of color hasn't stopped there!  And now that I actually wear underwear all the time... (yeah, remember when we were young and didn't? - yeah right, admit it.) I like to wear them as bright and as varied as I can.  So I buy popping purple, lime green, hot pink, vivid red, electric yellow and any other loud colors I can find, for my underwear selections.  Somehow, it doesn't feel like I've lost the color in my life when I wear my vibrantly colored underwear.  I don't care if they don't show, I know they are there!

And then along comes Mom.  Oh yeah, you knew there had to be a catch right?  uh huh.  Mother taught us to sort our laundry and not to use bleach on our bright colors.  When that all changed, I am not sure.  I do know that when I see her headed to the laundry room with a bottle of  bleach, that my underwear are about to undergo another change of color.  Yup, all those wonderfully bright and vibrant colors are going to go down the drain right along with sweat marks, body odor and the drippings of my last meal. 

Lime green has turned to pea green, hot pink is just a blush, vivid reds are smears and blotches of long gone color.  Those lovely daisy yellow ones are almost white now. 

I now just pretend that my underwear are those wonderfully brilliant colors that I so love.  But I can't complain... after all, my mom IS doing my laundry!  So maybe I'll just stick a flower in my super short hair after all!

Mixed Blessings

Do you ever think about your blessings?  And what they mean?  I do sometimes, not nearly enough - but sometimes.  I also think about that old adage "Mixed blessings" and what it means.  I am pretty sure it doesn't mean the same thing to all of us.

Mom said that about today's rain.  "It's raining."  she said.  "That's a mixed blessing.  My flowers need it but I can't work outside in it."

"hmmmm," I thought to myself. "Does everyone interprate mixed blessings as a ying yang sort of thing?  Or do other's also think of it as more than one blessing all at once?"

 I grew up understanding it to be one opposed to the other.  But I have often wondered if that is what it is supposed to mean.

  Mom made a bunch of various types of floral flowers.  I got them cropped and ready to list in supplies at Etsy. 

She also finished some more decorator pillows.  They are so sweet! I just love her pillows!  She has a knack for putting the right flowers together with the right colors. 

So, now I have to list them.  Now is that a mixed blessing because they are wonderful but I have to do some work and pay a few coins to that?   or.... is a mix of they are wonderful, lovely to look at, someone will buy them and my mom made them!.....?                                                                                                      

I've decided to let Mom have her Ying and Yang and not say anything about it.  But for me, well... I decided I will just consider all the positives in the Mix!   So that said, I am going to go take some more pictures in this perfect ambient light, (thanks to the rainy day) and edit them to list in Etsy, our website and maybe put a few on Facebook too!

                                                                    

It's been nearly a year!

Nearly a year has passed since I have posted to this blog.  That does not mean I haven't had anything to say though...

Mom turned 89 this year.  She's still climbing on ladders, planting a garden, digging flower beds, sewing new and wonderful items for our house and yours, losing her hearing, making me repeat myself and generally working harder than I am.  phew!  The woman's a one woman whirlwind!

We are slowly going to change our stores.  I think we are going to concentrate on some supply items.  Things like mom's wonderful hand made fabric flowers and some resin work suitable for focal beads, polymer clay items and more custom orders than stock orders.  This will not only take some pressure off of us to keep our stock up but it will clarify the diversity amongst the Triple Willows and make it easier to make sure customers get what they want. 

Sister spent nearly a year in California working.  It was really difficult to continue working on this big house without her here but it was a great move for her career wise.  Fortunately, she was home at least once a month.  Time flies when you are an elderly person sometimes and that alone made it easier for mom to deal with her absence. 

Our critters are well and healthy.  Elvis is still chasing shadows and light reflections, Tucker is still chasing Elvis and the cat is aging gracefully.  Mr Boo though....  well, that critter is a law unto himself!  He has become enamoured of sounds.  Not words... SOUNDS.  He does the microwave, he does the key beeps on the phone, he does the tail end of the ambulance siren, he does the short burst RRRR of the cop car, he does the dumptruck's back up alarm, he does the creaking from the cabinet door....  AND he does several he's made up himself!!  Never a dull moment in the Triple Willow house!

Does it sound like you want to visit?  Come on over!  Mom will feed you up, Tucker will lick you 'til you're happy, Elvis will chase your shadow, the cat will ask you to hold him and Mr Boo will sooner or later blast out a sound you recognize!
Me? I'll be in the background with dog treats, cat treats and earplugs... you're on your own with Mom though...

Living with your mother

I don't care how old you get, living with your mother is a challenge! My mom is 88 years old. She's an amazing woman! She makes all the table linens for our website and is incredibly creative with them. They usually include a lot of hand work or little extra's that make them especially lovely!



That said, she's also hard to guard! She still mows - if I don't beat her to it, climbs on ladders to hang curtains - here's the roman blinds she made for our living room -


The lighting isn't perfect in the pic, but they are lined keep the living room well shaded from the outside sun.

I asked her if she wanted to list custom roman blinds on the website but she said "Heck no! These were hard enough!" lol!

She did a beautiful job, as she always does. Mom's been sewing in some capacity or another, since she was 5 years old. That's a lot of experience with a needle!

I came in the living room to see her on a ladder hanging these. Scared the crap out of me. Mom has a sinus condition that often has her balance a little off kilter so I was terrifed that she would topple off the rungs and break something! Like I said, she's hard to guard.

I spend a lot of time following behind her turning things off. Usually the water. She's not at all bad about the stove, but the water seems to be something she likes to leave on. Fortunately, we have good drains so nothing floods.

I also have to always look in the oven when she puts something in there. It isn't uncommon for her to leave the potholder or dishtowel in with the roast or rice pudding. mmmmmm .... terrycloth flavored cookies.... ack!

Mom will spend hours in her garden. We have this horrible weed that has no end to it growing in our yard. Nothing kills it. The roots speak Mandrin. She will crawl around her very large garden on her knees for hours trying to get this weed before it violates her veggies! Usually, I can keep track of her from the windows when she's out there. But I have to go out and make her come in to eat or convince her to take a break.

Mom has an incredible work ethic and always has had. Trouble is, she expects us all to get up at the butt crack of dawn and get to work before the first cup of coffee is done! She has a time clock of her own and she expects us all to punched in when she is. Savoring that cup of coffee is an unecessary luxury as is breakfast or Good Morning America.

Her failing hearing is hard my throat. After repeating louder and louder and answer to her questions I usually get a sharp retort, "You don't have to yell at me! Sorry I asked." Of course that leaves me not only with a raw throat but a crappy attitude.

I don't mind repeating some things for her nor do I mind her repeating some things over and over for me. I can always use the reminders. But it gets tiresome to remind her that she is 88!

Shower with a Centipede

This morning I took a shower with a centipede. Well, almost. I reached in behind the shower curtain, turned on the water to let the hot water come up, walked over to the towel cabinet and got out a washcloth. Then I stepped into the shower and prepared to start the process of shampooing my long hair. I happened to look down and saw I was sharing my shower with a centipede!

This did not make me happy! I quickly jumped out of the tub. Now the floor is soaking wet - long hair can hold a LOT of water! I reached under the sink looking for anything to zap this thing with. I laid my hands on The Works toilet cleaner bottle. What the heck? I thoroughly doused him and shut the curtain. After a jittery moment I looked back in and he was not moving, just floating a little bit in the running water. He was a lot lighter in color too. A wad of toilet paper and a flush later and he was gone.

Knowing that I have saved myself a possible ugly bite did not make me feel better about killing him that way. Nor did knowing he was dead and gone keep me from looking down at my feet almost constantly! I managed to get soap and shampoo in my eyes about four times from being on the lookout for another one. ouch!

Here's what the thing looked like:
http://tinyurl.com/oqorzt

I couldn't get the picture to load. Blogger gives me a lot of trouble with that.

I hope the rest of you have a better start to your day!

A Rake is a Lousy Date

I had an early date with Roy the Rake today. We also hung out with Sherm the Shovel, Peter the Pitchfork and that hideous T. Tiller! After unearthing tons of rocks and huge slabs of 1940 concrete, these tools had the nerve to lean back on the fence and leave me to find my own way back to the house!


I am so tired of this wanna be garden! I may never eat another tomatoe just on principal.


My hands are so worn out I won't be handling a needle for beading for the next two days. This keyboard is enough trouble.


I am beginning to think we should have bought a condo or something..... arghhhh!

We do love this grand old lady though. Now if only she'd 've come with a garden plot already plowed!

Now get this.... my mother is 88 years old. She is out there digging and raking and planting flowers with us. She still mows the yard with her self propelled lawn mower my brother bought her last year. She can outlast us on our best day of working! We are thinking of signing her up for Survivor.