Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Life in our little cottage in the country

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Back in the Saddle?

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I’m going to make an attempt to write a post every day, as has been the norm around here for several years. I may fail at times. You all know what’s been going on and that I feel emotionally and physically drained by (most recently) my father’s death and Scout’s death. That continues. Crying is the norm these days, for both Don and me. Exhaustion and erratic sleep are also a constant.

Don’t worry, we’re taking care of ourselves. Nevertheless, we are struggling.

Yesterday, we took a drive, thinking we’d look at a favorite antique shop. We did, but my goodness, it was disappointing. There’s a difference between vintage/antique and junk. Unfortunately, the vast majority of items being sold by individual dealers were what I would call junk. Of course, that might be another man’s treasure, and I certainly don’t go for high-end antiques, but somewhere there is a middle ground and it wasn’t in evidence yesterday. Lots and lots of ‘stuff.’

Ah well. We did split some fries, and they were yummy. There is that.

While I was in Hartford, I succumbed to some more pieces of Roseville pottery. One was waiting on our porch steps when we came home on Saturday. Another is on its way.

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This is a 7 inch bud vase in the Clematis pattern. It was a steal at $17.50. (I think I’m the only one who placed a bid.) You’ll notice I only share the price of a piece of pottery with you when I get a really great deal. Otherwise, I’m mum on the subject. $17.50 for any piece of Roseville would have been unheard of a few years back…maybe for a badly damaged piece. Maybe.

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The other side.

I’ve cleared a shelf in the pink cabinet in my office and I’m going to display some of my Roseville there. The pink vase I bought last month is there. This piece will be there. My Zephyr Lily console bowl is already there and the piece that’s coming later this week might live there as well. We’ll see.

This one is flawless – no chips or cracks. It matches the flower frog that Barbara gave me…

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Remember?

Clearly, Roseville is my current passion. I love all my McCoy and I have a lot  of it, so I am less apt to purchase anything new, simply because I have most of the pieces I want. I saw some McCoy yesterday; some of it I already had, some of it wasn’t my style. The same thing happens when I search on eBay.

But Roseville is another story.

What else? I’m currently reading the most recent Simon Serrailler mystery by Susan Hill. After that, I will be all caught up. Sob. I’m doing laundry and some minor cleaning. I have a lot of sorting and organizing and dumping to do around here, but though I think about it a lot, I’m just not motivated at the moment. In time.

Happy Monday.

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On Loss

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Lord, I love my morning coffee!

This morning is one of those mornings where it tastes like the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had. I’m savoring it. On my second cup now: Peet’s French Roast, pour-over method, which is now the only way I make my coffee. The apartment has a Keurig, a very nice one, but this is my preferred method.

The mug is from Billy’s Bakery in NYC. I had to bring it with me.

Alan Rickman’s death has really thrown me for a loop. I can’t get him out of my mind. Too young, of course, at 69 – much too young. He was one of my favorite actors and not because of any Harry Potter movies. I’ve never seen one. I have, however, seen him onstage, many years ago at the Edinburgh Festival, and he was, as you would expect, compelling and amazing and mesmerizing. He had talent galore and a charisma that was undeniable. I felt that charisma that evening. I loved his work in Truly, Madly, Deeply  (one of my favorite movies) and in Sense and Sensibility  and a host of other films. His performances were never boring, always impeccable, always riveting.

He had a voice that this vocal coach found endlessly fascinating. He shouldn’t be gone. He should still be with us.

Another great stage actor – Brian Bedford – also passed away a few days ago. He was one of the best. I was fortunate enough to see him onstage in Stratford, Ontario in the seventies – with Maggie Smith – and I still remember his performance. And hers. They are imbedded in my memory; magical, powerful, delightful, something I could only dream of doing as a young actress  – I could go on and on with the adjectives. I watched him onstage in a couple of different productions. In Twelfth Night, he played Malvolio and at one point, when aroused in the middle of the night, he entered carrying a teddy bear. Oh, what a fine actor he was.

Such enormous losses for the Theater. Such talent, humanity,kindness and compassion gone in a flash.

Too much loss.

Meredith and I were talking yesterday about how our father’s death has affected us much more deeply than we had imagined it would. We miss him so much. And we’re very sad that her little boy, Little Buddy or, as I call him, Little Z, only had a brief time with his grandfather. My father adored him. He found him delightful and fascinating and loved nothing more than cuddling and reading to him. I think it’s fair to say that Little Z was the light of my dad’s life.

I had a message on Facebook yesterday from a guy I grew up with – we went to the same church. He wanted me to know that the Pastor of our church died on January 10th. Pastor Rolik was such a strong and powerful part of my young life; a gentle, compassionate and truly kind man. He was my mom’s age – she would have been 88. Such sad news to hear and, of course, my immediate reaction was that I needed to tell Mom. And Dad.

And I can’t.

The condo is now officially on the market. When it was listed, Meredith sent me the link.

Seeing it empty with nothing left from the many years my parents lived there was depressing. And very sad.

I guess this has ended up being a post about loss and grief and sadness.

On a happier note, rehearsals are going well. I truly love table work. I’m always eager to start again the next day. And isn’t that wonderful?

The apartment is great. (I really do like these apartments.) I’m reading a lot when I first get up and again in the evening, after I finish my dinner. Yes, I miss Don and Scout, but I’m having a lovely time here. This always happens, you know. I dread leaving home but once I get settled, I adjust quickly and really enjoy my time in Hartford.

Happy Friday.

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Where I Am

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I’m calling this “McCoy and Books.”

I’m pretty sure those two categories are at the top of my I Love list.

I’ve been crocheting for hours at a time – too many hours at a time. Yesterday, late in the afternoon, I realized that it was the 29th. Exactly one month since my father died. How is that possible? Late last night, as we were getting ready to go to sleep, I told Don that I realized that having my mom and dad still alive here on Earth made me feel safe. And now that they’re gone I didn’t feel safe anymore. Of course, I immediately qualified that statement by saying it was entirely different thing than the ‘safe’ I feel with Don. But I didn’t really need to say that, because he understood. The protection and safety I took for granted all these years has disappeared with the death of my dad.

Dear friends, I try to balance the content of my posts. One sad post must be counterbalanced by several happy, chatty posts. As a rule, this isn’t at all hard for me to do. I’m usually pretty cheery. But it is  hard at the moment. I’ve lost both of my parents in the past eighteen months. We have a lot of worries that are ongoing. Scout gets frailer by the minute and I worry about her constantly. The realization that we will lose her at some point is staring me in the face.

I relive those last hours with Dad. I remember something I want to tell him and then realize that I can’t pick up the phone and call him. He sometimes drove me crazy, calling several times a day about some little thing he needed to tell me. Now, I’d give anything to pick up the phone and hear his voice. Isn’t that always the way? Yesterday, I had the thought that I needed to tell Dad that I’m working in Hartford in January. And then I remembered.

It’s good for me to write this and I can only ask your indulgence as I sometimes share my feelings. I’m crying as I type this and that’s good. I need to cry.

Right now, I feel lost and sad. Christmas holds very little appeal, though we’ll celebrate the season in a modified way that feels right for us.

That’s where I am, my friends. Thank you for being there.

I do have another scarf in the Etsy shop – the Obsession Scarf in Wildberries.

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This is a photo of an earlier version of the scarf. Each one I make is individual because the placement of the colors within the skein changes. But the colors used remain the same. This will probably be the last one I will make in this colorway, so if you’re at all interested, I’d suggest you jump on it. Here’s the link.

Update: Sold! If you have a request, let me know.

Happy Monday.

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