Behind The Skeins

So, So, Wrong!

2009-06-19T04:51:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when I think I am so right, I am so, so wrong!

In mid-March, on a Sunday, my youngest son Rory and his bride Maureen came over for dinner. We had a delightful time. Nothing special, the usual fun family time we always have.

On Tuesday night that same week I had a dream. I woke up on Wednesday morning and remembered everything, well all but the name. This dream was so real that my senses where ultra heightened. I could actually feel and smell in my sleep.

I dreamt that on Sunday at dinner Maureen was not pregnant but on Tuesday evening she delivered a full term baby girl. It was so real that I could feel my new granddaughter and I could smell her too. You know that new baby girl smell. Sweet and delicious. When I woke up in the morning I was elated for about 10 seconds. When I found out that my granddaughter was not yet born I was so disappointed. I couldn't wait to call my son and daughter in law to tell them about my "most perfect" dream.

As I finished explaining my starry night story there was complete silence. Maureen said, "How real was it?" I said, "So real that I could feel her, I could smell her!" Days went by and I thought nothing more about it.

A week later we here at the Boston Ballet Ball. Maureen was wearing the most gorgeous gown and I commented on how beautiful it was. She mentioned it was a knock off of a famous gown that Jennifer Lopez had worn to the academy awards 2 years prior. I asked, "Oh, when she was pregnant?" Silence from my daughter in law. I looked at her and very slowly whispered, "Are you pregnant?" She nodded, yes.

I was convinced with every bone in my body and every penny in my bank that for sure she was having a girl. I went so far is to buy a little dress for an Easter present for my soon to be girly, girl granddaughter. A token of my confidence. I started making a pink mohair scarf, I planned a pink shower, I bought TONS of pink yarn to make a pink baby blanket with pink cables and a matching pink cable sweater. I even bought my daughter in law a Pandora bracelet with all pink charms on it, one even being a little girl.

I told everyone about my dream. I mean everyone that had an ear. I sent some female family names to my son on Monday of this week because on Tuesday they were hearing from the doctor as to what the sex was. I told my son that if the doctor says it is a boy tell him to look again! No boys names even came to mind.

On Tuesday afternoon my son called me to thank me for the family names I had sent him. He added, "Sorry, mom but they won't work. We are having a boy and the doctor said the little guy isn't being shy about it!" I was speechless. I thought my son was teasing me. He would do that. How could my dream be so real and not be real? I was sure my little granddaughter was coming to introduce herself to me via my deep sleep. Not the case at all.

As days have gone by I have left pink behind me. I am over the moon for blue and I am so excited to welcome our new grandson due to enter our world in November. Congratulations to Rory and Maureen!

Of course, I went straight to Seed Stitch Fine Yarn to buy new yarns for Maureen's baby boy palette.

There are the colors Maureen and Rory chose for baby boy Fitz-Gerald

Chicklette and The "Playhouse"

2009-06-13T19:09:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of my grand daughter, Abbie. I like to call her Chicklette. She is the oldest of the bunch, the smallest and definitely the leader of the gang. She inherited the "Cecilia Fitz-Gerald" gene from her great grandmother. She looks like my mother, Lorraine, but has the personality of her Grandmother Fitz-Gerald. She is bossy and she likes to be in charge. She does have a very kind and compassionate heart. That she got from my mother. She is a real bright light for me. In this picture, Chicklette, is on her way this afternoon to a pool party for her dear friend Eleanor. It is Eleanor's 7th birthday.

Chicklette has a playhouse at Nonna (me) and Poopa's house. By the way she named her grandfather Poopa. It wasn't a baby talk name, it was intentional! The playhouse is really for all of our grandchildren but Chicklette thinks it is just hers. She is also a little territorial. It is not just any playhouse. It is a special one. It is the one that I always wanted when I was a little girl. Then I had 2 boys. No chance there. Along comes Chicklette and 10 months later comes her cousin, Liliana Rose. Don't Abigael Faith and Liliana Rose sound like story book names? They are just the coolest and the cutest and they truly love each other so much. Also they are really into matching. They love to dress like twins. Their so funny and really entertaining when they are together. Stop by Villa bel Mare sometime for a cup of tea at Chicklette's Place! She whips up a really great imaginary breakfast too!

What's Next...

2009-06-09T06:53:00.001-07:00

As many of you know I have sold my beloved business, Seed Stitch Fine Yarn. Yes, a lovely couple, Courtney and Robbie Heath, came at just the right time. As of May 1st they became the new owners.

I had come to a decision that I wanted to spend more time in my gardens which I had worked so hard to create the 6 years prior to owning SSFY,

play with my 4 grandchildren, soon to be 5, who are now 6 to 3 years old and I wanted to write a book or two. Well, also knit, spending more time in Florida in the winters and enjoying my husbands company which I really missed.

Here is a picture of the first bouquet of the season from my garden. I am just a sunny day or two away from having a wonderland of roses here at Villa bel Mare. Today, however, I am doing the "rumba rain dance." My flowers are begging for a good shower! And so it is, the rain dance worked. It is showering outside!

And what is this? Well, in preparation for the grandchildren this summer we are having a never before roof put on their jungle gym. I picked this up for a fraction of the new cost from the people that lived across the street from us. They moved out of their house, left it vacant and for a year I would pull into my driveway and thought, " I wonder what they are going to do with that jungle gym?" I finally picked up the phone, before someone else did, and negotiated a great deal for the kiddies. It will be great summer fun at Poopa and Nonna's house.

I am relaxing, enjoying my friends and taking great care of myself.

Inaguration Experience

2009-05-09T18:01:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009, was unforgettable. There were 7 of us seated 'round the class tables at Seed Stitch Fine Yarn. Suzanne Barnes, our very first customer joined us. We cried, we laughed and we stood at attentain while President Obama, who I like to call Barrack, spoke his commitment to our land, our people and our soul. We all knew something dygnified and truthful was occuring. It had been a long time since I had heard such clarity in the voice of our leader.

I'm not expecting perfection. Just respect. Respect on the part of the person that directs our country and holds the hand that is a full house. That full house influences every single country, good or bad, on this planet. I expect our captian to understand that, to know that, and to respect that.

Inaguration day has been 114 days ago. I am going to use my sister in laws words by saying, "I still love this man, his smile, his family and his new dog!"

The Inaguration...

2009-01-23T09:58:00.001-08:00

I will write about my experience. I am just letting it settle in first. It was powerful for me.

Fallen From the Sky....

2009-01-19T05:43:00.001-08:00

There is nothing my heart and soul desire more than warmth but there is no denying that this white fluff, that which can only come gliding from the sky when temperatures drop below tolerable for me, is gorgeous. I woke this morning to a wonderland that only this season can gift.

I Can't Beleive It.....

2009-01-17T08:01:00.001-08:00

I can't believe it is January. January 17th, no less. Time does fly when you are having fun!

Well, here is my update:

I spent a week in Paris during Thanksgiving with my two sons and my new daughter-in-law. It was wonderful, elegant and artful. We all connected with each other on a new level. My youngest son and his new bride celebrated their 1st wedding anniversary with a toast and a 5 star dinner while enjoying a view of Paris from the Eiffel Tower.

The food was only as the French would do it. Every bite was superb. The artwork rated equally as orgasmic as the cuisine and the architecture, like no other city in the world. The French are back on good terms with us Americans as they chanted "Obama, Obama" when they heard our accent.

On Thanksgiving evening we sailed down the Seine River and while dining we listened to a French orchestra. If heaven is in France, we were there. From our glass vessel we cruised by Notre Dome where we had attended mass earlier in the week. we passed the Eiffel Tower dressed in her Christmas gown of glittery snow flakes that flashed every hour on the hour. There wasn't one moment of that evening that I didn't treasure and I pray that as I grow older I will not forget any part of that wonderous experience. We decided that evening, God willing, we will visit Ireland for our 2010 family vacation. The next afternoon we here headed back to the USA.

I returned to Swampscott and Seed Stitch Fine Yarn in the middle of THE season. Most of the month of December was a blur with the exception of our holiday party on December 20th. My son, Ryan, decorated Villa bel Mare from top to bottom. It was a maize of magic. Merriment arrived with a knock on the door. It was Santa Claus himself! All of the children gathered around him waiting to let the big man in red know exactly what was on their wish list.

On Christmas Eve, always a special evening for our family,we attended an early afternoon mass. There were Shepard's and angels galore and even baby Jesus was there with his parents. The music was holy and spirited, and we left ready to spread joy and generosity. Our evening was rich with love. We ate lobster, exchanged gifts and shared this time of acceptance and adoration.

On the morning of December 25th ,at 8:00 am, we were on a jet plane headed for our beloved Sarasota. For 2 weeks I felt the warmth of 72-80 degrees, sunshine on my shoulders, and a resurgence of life that changed my thinking about how I have been living.

Inspiration from Nature

2008-11-11T11:54:00.000-08:00

Wow, it has been over a week since I was on this site to write. SO much has happened since then. We have a new president elect, the days have become darker and shorter AND I learned to spin and dye yarn!!

There were 10 anxious fiber hounds gathered around the living room in Club dei Belle for the weekend, all hungry to learn. Marie, owner of Brooklyn Handspun, came up from the Big Apple to share her wisdom and experience. The "Queen" of spinning and dyeing arrives at Logan Airport resembling Rapunzel with a spinning wheel flung over one shoulder, 28 skeins of undyed hanks over the other and 3 bags full of raw fleece ready to take color.

We spun until sunset on Saturday with anticipation of splashing chemicals from one end of our work to the other. On Sunday morning we did just that. We drew our inspiration from what surrounded us. It was handed to us on Mother Natures silver platter.This time of year in New England it is brimming with vibrance everywhere. We were given permission to use her, and we did, filling our minds and our spirits with natures color palette. When the day was done we gave thanks to nature's mother, to Marie Carney and to ourselves. Each of us left with an arm full of dyed fiber dressed in our own interpretation of earth's pigments all ready for handcrafting. These beauties might become a pair of socks, handwarmers or a lace scarf but whatever their masters make of them, I know, they were truely created from the heart.

I Voted...

2008-11-04T07:33:00.000-08:00

Yes, I was there at 6:30 AM. I wasn't the first in line but I was the second. One by one bodies stagger in, not yet fully awake, a Starbucks latte in one hand and a desire for change in the other.

At 7 am, they called me in. "Sixth precinct, to the left, give the first letter of your street name", I hear from the veteran volunteer with strong vocal cords that are loud enough for the 33rd person in line to get the message.

"A" is my letter. "A" for Atlantic Avenue. I am checked off and my, yes my, paper ballot is issued to me. I glance at it almost afraid to look at it fully like it's a document that was given to me by the secret service to personally deliver to the White House . Somehow my choice is all that counts today. I take a deep breath, and proceed to the booth. My hand is quivering, my heart is racing and I feel a little faint. Sort of like the feeling I get every time I go for a mammogram.

I set the elongated, white, crisp paper down and begin to read. Why is it all such a blur? Oh, of course, my glasses. I am fishing around in my clutch looking for my glasses thinking all the while that the veteran volunteer, with the loud lungs, is going to look over and shout out, "what are you looking for over there", and I will be embarrassed in front of my all my neighbors.

Specs are on and I am ready. First vote is Commander in Chief. My finger scrolls down the list.
The last name in the column is spelled out. That name spells change, youth, inspiration. It spells value, father, intelligence. It spells husband, eloquence, genuine. It spells strength, transformation, leader. It spells my vote. I have never felt so sure of my vote. I fill in the hollow oval in jet black ink. Hard and thick so that my choice is not missed. The rest doesn't really matter. I skim along the remaining columns. Yes, on not mistreating the greyhounds anymore.
On state income taxes, come on, if I want good schools, police protection, and the arts, I vote for it. On grass, a no brainer.

I am done. That took all of 3 minutes. I walk to the silver counting machine and submit my selection. I stand until the last quarter inch disappears. I am relieved. I am free. I am elated.

I have never felt more proud to be an American.

Before the Ferry Sets Sail

2008-10-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

From the time the registration check cleared my husbands account until the second my toe touched the Port Authority Ferry headed for Vineyard Haven, I am flat out. In the store, huge boxes of fiber are coming in the back door and flying out the front door. 'Tis our season! September through March we are in Ferrari fifth gear. No, not just me, the entire staff; Margie, Denise, Kendra, Michele, Laurie, Andrea, Rhonda, Roberta, Helene and Trysh are all scrambling to keep up. There are multiple classes going on at the same time. All completely full. The store is mobbed with fiber lovers from all over. Just keeping the store stocked becomes a midnight job. There is a frantic calmness to the activity. Everyone is respectful of each other, all honoring each others hard work and the endless hours of dedication. In the midst of a month of full throttel service, Kaffe Fassett and Brandon Mably arrive. Kaffe's event has been sold out for a week and Brandon's color workshop is a full house. We all stop, take a very deep breath, and everything organically folds into slow motion. Even if it is for just a few days.

The Vineyard

2008-10-24T10:45:00.000-07:00

I just spent the last 4 days in total bliss. I was on the Vineyard. For everyone west of New England, it's more famous address is Martha's Vineyard. I was at a writing workshop. How much more decadent can life be then to take 4 days away from the grind, sit cross legged on the floor with a wise, scribe guru and paint with words? My long time friend decided to come along after a lunch we had together in August where I described to her the contents of the material I had gathered off the Internet. She, herself a novice writer, was struggling to move forward with a novel she started some years ago and was ready to rid herself of writers block and unleash the next 14 chapters.

We each presented the idea to our husband's hinting that they gift us this for our September birthday's since we celebrate them just one week apart. They, in turn, jumped at the opportunity of being let off the hook. My husband was anxious to make his check book available and asks numerous times for the address of where to send the fee. He seems relieved to not have to think about anything else beyond this point for my big day. My friend and I yelled WOOP-TEE-DOO when the envelope is licked and the stamp was secured on the right corner of the front of my husbands personal stationary. We are there, even though we aren't there for another 7 weeks. At this point we aren't as interested as we originally were about the workshop. It has all sunk in that we are spending 4 nights and 5 days away on Martha's Vineyard.

To be continued..........

The British have come, The British have come!!

2008-10-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes it is true, they where sleeping across the hallway from me. In my own house, no less!

I looked down the hallway and the lights in their rooms were on late at night. Who? Well, Kaffe Fassett and Brandon Mably, of course! Kaffe was in the blue room and Brandon in the grey room. But what are they creating in there? A new quilt pattern that will eventually end up in the Smithsonian or some really snappy patterned sweater authored by Brandon?

My house was totally smokin' with creativity. Brandon wanders from room to room re-decorating. I do take his opinion seriously. C'mon, he is the PRINCE of color and design. Kaffe is the quieter of the two. There is an aura of serenity and centered thoughtfulness that surrounds his spirit. I keep wondering what he is thinking. Is the decorating conversation boring him or has he managed to perfect the art of letting the world go on around him while he focuses on his craft?

Together they decided that Kaffe's "Nona" quilt should hang on the large empty wall opposite my grand staircase. I agree the colors are perfect and the fact that my grandchildren call me "Nonna" (the Italian version of Nona) and Kaffe called his grandma "Nona" makes it all so personal and sentimental. Brandon continues. We're now standing in the entry. "We need some chartreuse! Some life! Some color! Something to tie in, The Man in the Blue Beard, a painting of an over sized naked man with a blue beard that myself and the artist gave to my husband for his 55th birthday. It is hanging smack in the middle of the entry above the fireplace. First thing you see when you walk in the door. It wasn't like I hadn't thought of chartreuse before, but this cements it. Chartreuse it is.

I suggested some sort of green walls in the kitchen to break up all the amethyst I went wild with some years ago when we renovated. Brandon is on it, paging through magazine after magazine to find just the right color. "Here it is Victoria" as his index finger lands on page 72 of the March, 2007, House and Garden Magazine issue. I glance down at the page and I see an article titled, Perfume Fields. My eyes fall on a picture of Chanel's Jacque Polge wearing a pair of slick, classy green trousers. He is right. He is dead on. In the background Kaffe is relaxingly knitting new patterns for Peruvian Connections. He glances up over his bi-focuals, nods an approval and we move on. I will have it done by the time they return in the spring.

In my dining room, "glaze the whole thing. It looks too much like a wedding cake". Minkly, I answer, "What do you mean?" trying to wrap my head around "glazing" over the muraled panels I had painted of Venice. I am pretty good at visuals but I just don't get this one. Brandon answers,"The painter will know. I think a baby blue glaze will be perfect. The color of the sky you have painted on the ceiling." Kaffe, again nods. He always, graciously, slides in with a final approval. I do think I have to meditate on that one.

He bypasses the loggia where my grand children have their playroom. No comment. Phewww!!

Now to the library. By this time I am taking mental notes to scratch on a pad when we are done. Will I even be able to remember everything? I had wanted to add a bright, warm color to the library. I mention a sunny, yellowy, mustardy color to add a little sunshine to this dark stoic room. Simultaneously, the boys say "NO! Leave it!" With all the mahogany paneling lining the walls they felt that they were nestled in a "walnut shell, so warm and so cozy". I surrender. Sometimes it is better to leave dark, dark.

I am exhausted and my check book is quivering but at the same time it is refreshing and exhilarating. I am ready for a change. This is a time of change.

Always creating,

Victoria