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Showing posts from January, 2011

Restoring Cleopatra

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My sewing machine died. It was a fancy computerized electronic thing that could do everything except serve you breakfast in bed. I'd used it several years, sewing many miles of stitches from basic repairs to outfitting the Anson High School Show Choir. The past two weeks, it has been languishing in a sewing machine repair shop, while the repairman searches for a tiny part that is as difficult to find as a pair of Birkenstocks on the rack in Walmart. Like many products made in the past several years, I'm sure it was designed to be replaced instead of repaired. Meanwhile, I wanted to sew. While I was stuck inside during the recent icy weather, it occurred to me that I had another sewing machine. It was an old treadle Singer that I bought for $35 at an estate auction. It had belonged to my great-great-aunt Mary Austin. Her sister, Emma, was my Grandma Eula Belle's mother. When I purchased the machine about 25 years ago, it was still threaded, as though Aunt Mary had b...

Diamonds in the Trees

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Memories of snow... I’d wake up in the night, and flip on the outside light that was above the window in my room. Peering out into the darkness, I’d try to see snowflakes falling. Oh, to see those fluffy flakes, swirling in the dark night! I'd wake up my sister Becky, eager to share the excitement with her and we'd stare out of the window together. I’d barely be able to sleep, I’d be so excited about the chance to play in the snow at daylight! I remember walking from our house through the pasture to Pop & Belle’s house. On more than one occasion, I’d dash out the door bundled up in my coat, gloves and hat – but on my feet I’d have just put on the little red rubber galoshes – NO shoes or socks. By the time I arrived at Belle’s, my feet would be like little blocks of ice, and I couldn’t even feel my toes! She’d put my feet in a pan of warm water – and then call my mama to tell her I’d walked up there bare-footed in the snow! I remember Mama or Belle, pu...

Finding the Top of the World

Today I participated in a writers’ workshop at The Farm at Weathers Creek. I had a terrific time, made lots of new friends, and am “mining the mother lode” in earnest as I dig around in my memory in search of “photographic moments.” Check out their website: http://www.weatherscreek.net/ and join us sometime! On the way to the class this morning, I experienced one of those sublime moments when time seems to stand still. Just for an instant I could grasp that feeling that comes the closest to perfection this life has to offer. Most of my two-hour drive was up I-77. I zipped along the road (thank God for cruise control -- it guards against my chronic lead foot), listening to classic rock radio, humming along to old favorite songs. Interstate driving CAN be boring, with fields, convenience stores, strip malls, housing developments, and car dealerships lining both sides of the road. But there’s one spot near Davidson, NC, where the road spans two fingers of Lake No...

International Family, Part 2

"Family" usually indicates a group of people who are related by blood or marriage. But sometimes, a family can be created by deep and caring relationships between people who are not related at all. Such is the "International Family" that David and I claim. We both have an appreciation of different cultures and different countries, and we open our home to visitors from around the world. I remember as a child that I enjoyed reading stories about people in different countries. We had an old set of Childcraft Encyclopedias, and my favorite volume was "Life in Many Lands." I'd read a story, then dream about walking through the country I'd just read about. Living close to the University of South Carolina has a few advantages -- and one is that we've met some pretty amazing students from other parts of the world. Sasikumar, from Sri Lanka has a huge heart for the oppressed in this world, especially women who are often taken advantage of sociall...