spring seemed like it was especially slow coming to firefly road this year. for the entire month of april, and a whole lot of may, the trees stood waiting to open themselves up to the possibilities of a new green world. rain rolled in on a too-often basis, chilling me to the bone and finding me sitting pulled up next to the fire, hot tea in hand, on a lot of early spring evenings. even today as i tap this words out, the windows and door are pulled shut to keep out what feels like a late march chill; tonight the temperatures will dip down into the mid 30's, yet the birds have built their nests, and some of them have already raised one brood and are onto the next. crazy creatures, those birds. but the birdsong has been heavenly - wood thrush, gold finch, indigo bunting, bluebirds, an insistent male cardinal - and it has been a bittersweet pleasure to sit out on the screened porch when weather permits and listen to them sing their beautiful songs.
i've put off writing you here at Ornamental, not by choice so much as by a hectic schedule that never does seem to let up. that's what comes from living alone, running a business alone, conducting chores alone, cooking and eating and cleaning and sorting alone, alone, alone. when i went to visit my mother in april, she finally convinced me to do something she has been offering to me for over a year: at the end of june, i'll be shifting homes from this lovely place i've rented for the past eight solid years, to the little log cabin my parents built in 1999 to use as their vacation home away from home.
i'm not sure why i fought the offer for as long as i did. the thought of moving is one that i purely detest, so there was that reason, right at the top of the list. what to do with so many of my things?! how to get them from point A (here) to point B (there, an hour's drive down winding, twisted mountain roads)? who would help me, if anyone at all? but she invited me, again and then again, to make the move. this past time, she finally talked some sense into me when she offered to let me move into the cabin and live there for as long as i wish, rent free. and she offered, as well, to help me set up a new studio space in the bottom of the cabin, a basement car garage that is much bigger than where i work now. okay, then, i thought. well, yessss. alright. okay. okay... it is a sweet little place - built of logs on the edge of a hill, sitting snugly on four acres that are full of hardwood trees. there is a view, or there will be one, once sapling trees and undergrowth are cleared away. there are antique architectural elements that were incorporated from daddy's demolition business - stained glass hanging in a high window, gingerbread trim, beautiful heart pine floors, a gorgeous old stair bannister and rails. two bedrooms and baths, an open (tiny) kitchen, a great big screened in porch. a front porch that will be wonderful for a swing. a side yard for walter. and that boxed-in, no-window basement garage. so, for the past month i've been sorting through belongings, selling furniture with my son robin's wonderful help (he drove from colorado, placed things on craig's list, and out some no longer needed pieces went). he replanted my succulents that were a gift from roy years ago, and the process seemed fitting with this new adventure of rebirth and growth that waits just at the horizon for walter and me.
now perhaps you'll understand just why it's taken me so long to play catch up here at Ornamental. now, i hope you'll see just what i have ahead of me: the clearing out of unneeded furniture and other belongings that my parents still have in the cabin; the sort out and packing or tossing or selling of things that have cluttered this house for eight full years; the remodeling project that i am getting ready to dive into out at the cabin for a new studio space. this involves the installment of three windows where a garage car door now rests, the addition of overhead lighting and drywall and additional electric outlets, the installation of an antique pedestal sink for water, connected to the one single place where water can be drawn. heating. tables. chairs. because? it is my hope to finally have a space large enough to conduct small workshops right there in my own studio. a place where you can come to learn techniques and artistic approaches from me, from little old me. that is my hope, and i'm working on a Kickstarter project that will be launched next week. for now, though, my son roy and his girlfriend will be here over the weekend to help pack up the last of his things, and robin will be back from alabama to help some more. things are crazy. hectic. overwhelming. but things are new, and changes await. i'm hoping that you'll be willing to contribute towards a move in a forward direction for me. i'm hoping that you'll offer your help in whatever way that you can. i'm scared, and glazed over a lot of the time. but i also feel very strongly that this move will bring great changes into my life, that it will replenish my heart and my soul. when i have the project polished and tweaked, i'll be announcing it here next week. stay tuned for that, if you can. meanwhile, i've managed to carve out a few new petite pieces of jewelry and have listed them in my little etsy shop.
rarely do i have any sort of sale in the shop - maybe once or twice a year - but i'm pushing forward, trying to clear my head for changes ahead. so, the leather bracelets have been reduced by 20%, to lighten up space for the new things you see above. if any of them called your name earlier, maybe now they might be calling a little more clearly. meanwhile, i'll be poking my head up every now and then to be in touch. i'm not about to sink under. not me. onward!