Guaranteed-to-Scare-You Halloween

Want to know the scariest thing about this Halloween? Aging.  I was rummaging through my digital files looking for a good Halloween image to use in a project when I came across this x-ray of my back.  Yup, it’s for reals. I had a spinal fusion for scoliosis at 16 and they threw in a Harrington rod for good (straightening) measure. It was state of the art in 1974 but today could easily be featured as a prop in a horror movie.

It’s been a rough year.  I’ve been undergoing spinal injections to remedy pinched nerves and collapsed discs (see the red, non-smiley face) to determine if/when/which/where to approach with a surgical intervention.  This was complicated by a bad fall & a wrist sprain that keeps giving me grief.  (I had 3 separate people tell me, “You should have broken it, it would heal faster.”) Roll that all up into a ball and nest it with feuding PMS & menopause and you have some idea of why my romantic 23rd wedding anniversary dinner left me a little weepy.  As we drove home we talked about all the people who filled our house the night before the wedding and how many of them were now missing, waiting for us on the “other side.”  As we pulled in to the driveway and got out of the car, I felt that familiar catch of pain in my lower back. Joe immediately caught my arm and walked me up the front steps.  When we got inside I burst into tears and said, “I feel like I’m aging before my own eyes!”  to which Joe replied, “Yeah, with a bullet!”  Thankfully, it broke the tension and I had a good, long laugh. No one can call it like Joe – he’s the “glass half full” anchor in my life.

So the treatments continue and we’ve made  progress to the point where I can actually sit comfortably. I am ready to get back to my sewing soon, even if it’s just hand sewing and  making hexagons. I always feel better when I’m at the Bernina, or cutting up new fabric, or whipping a binding on to a quilt.   It feeds my soul, I like the creative process, and it makes me feel like I have accomplished something wonderful. Best of all -  I get to make another baby quilt! My wonderful niece and god-daughter, Katie, is due in the spring.  I like sewing for a new little life.  It puts the whole aging thing into perspective and motivates me to push through the bumps and dips because the  view from the heights is all that much better. Maybe that is the secret to growing old gracefully – as hard as it is to keep patching up the old body, it’s worth it a thousand times over when you experience the world with so much wisdom and experience – and love – in your lenses.

My Quilted Consolation

A few days ago while guiding a cruise ship land tour I was in the process of crossing the street when I caught my front toe on the edge of a curb and went flying. As luck would have it my head missed an angled granite flower box by about a half an inch (I’d be getting coloring books for Christmas for the rest of my life if I had connected with that thing) but still managed to land on my right hand, arm and shoulder. One of the other guides came to my rescue (thank you LINN!) and  as luck would have it, one of the passengers in my group was a nurse.   We bagged it with ice & I finished the tour, mostly through gritted teeth. I went home, repacked the ice, took a fistful of ibuprofen, crawled into bed and slept until about 9PM when my husband woke me to eat something and repack the ice.  Since I had a physical scheduled the next day I was able to get x-rays to make sure nothing serious was broken or fractured.

I’m sporting a ghoulish bruise that extends from the palm of my right hand to almost halfway down my arm – eeewww.  I have it wrapped for support and camouflage. I can type for about an hour and that is IT.  Fingers, wrist, elbow just ACHE.  I carry around one of those little blue picnic bricks of ice like an accessory clutch purse, but covered by a zip lock bag so it doesn’t sweat or drip. It’s a look.

I can’t dry my hair or put on makeup without looking clown-like.   When I forget the injury and try to pick up an empty  coffee cup or plate I drop it and thunk the edge on my granite counter tops. ( I now have a matched set of chipped Dansk Bistro dinner plates.) I can’t begin to hold a needle or  sew, and frankly I’m starting to spiral up in my head about if or how much nerve damage is going to be part of the prize package that comes with me being such a klutz.

I am bitchy, crabby and sore, so you can imagine my happiness when my treasure arrived in the mail. Not long ago I decided to gift myself with one of  Dave Grunenwald’s  QuiltBoxes.  He donated one to the Lowell Quilt Festival last year and when it arrived it stayed on my desk for an embarrassingly long time before I was forced to give it up to the committee.  These boxes are made by a talented, master craftsman who appreciates the art of quilting and surgically duplicates the perfect points and curves in a natural and beautiful medium. He is truly an artist.

I wanted to come up with something that would serve as a  bit of a commemorative piece. My mother, the quilter, has been gone ten years next month. My dear dad,  the hobby woodworker, has only been gone for six months.  I needed something that was a bit of both of them and a bit of me. Hence, the beautifully handcrafted wooden box with a quilt block design.  But which design? Dave makes it nearly impossible to choose - you want all of them.  After months of indecision I chose the mariner’s compass block as an homage to my life by the sea in Gloucester, Massachusetts.  So all 3 of us are here in this one magnificent treasure. I’m not sure what I will put inside it yet – the bottom of the box is lined in black velvet so it must be something special. I had him add a little knob to it because my well-known OCD “issue” with hand lotion would gum up this little beauty in a NY minute.

I feel better just looking at it, touching the top, marveling at the silky smooth finish. It smells like wood and a bit of varnish, kind of like my dad’s hardware store.  Within my limited means I try to support artists and craftspeople like Dave so that we continue to have beautiful, hand-made things in this world. Do the same – you will not be disappointed, I promise.

PS – It has taken me over 3 hours to put together this post. See how we suffer for our “art”?

PPSS –  I took the liberty of using Dave’s photo as I can’t begin to take a picture or wrestle the cords into the slots with this stupid damn hand all messed up.  Note to all you lurking grammar police and spell check Nazi’s  -  I’m doing the best I can so take it elsewhere, m’kay?  A better use of your time would be to go to Dave’s website and check these out. Seriously, you know you want one……