My friend, who shall be known here as D, is dying. D could be the poster child for a "Lust for Life" campaign. He loves everyone and has seemingly infinite energy and enthusiasm for any and all adventures. He’s fought prostate cancer for eight years, which is a testament to his personal fortitude and the amazing advances of modern medicine. But now the cancer has moved to the bone, and will not be diverted from its course.
While the details of cancer’s attack on the body are horrific, and the impending loss of a loved one is heartrending, it is comforting to know that in this post-industrial world where everyone is separated and we rely on machines for our everyday survival, our culture has begun to return to some of the old ways.
D is at home now for his final weeks, attended by his partner and children who are thankful for the existence of Hospice and opiate derivatives, both of which help diminish the physical agony aspect of death and allow them to squeeze in every last minute of togetherness and joy for this man. I’m not an anthropologist, but it seems to me that our species has a long history of ushering our dying members carefully and lovingly into the afterlife. This was lost briefly in the decades of the last century where we sent the elderly and dying to institutions “for their own comfort.” Now it seems there is a trend to keep our elders near us in whatever way we can, and to stay close to them as they die. I know not everyone has the opportunity to spend quiet moments with their loved one just before their death; there are too many things that can kill us unexpectedly. But given the opportunity - and plenty of assistance, I’m not suggesting that people give up their careers or put themselves into bankruptcy in order to keep an elder at home - it seems like home is the best place “for their own comfort.”
Who is D to me? As with most of my relationships, it’s a little hard to describe. Officially, he is the son of my partner’s mother’s late second husband. We are completely unrelated, and yet he is family. But a more meaningful description would be something like this: a kindred spirit, a brilliant artist who simultaneously laughs with childlike glee and takes the weight of the world on his shoulders, a man who assumes everyone is a friend unless proven otherwise, and, most simply, a good man.
Here are a few of the things I know about him:
D is a devoted family man – a son, father, brother, and husband, as well as uncle and in-law to many generations and at many removals.
D is a world traveler - he and his partner have traveled all over the globe, seeing beautiful sights and collecting incredible art objects.
D is an artist – actor, dancer, wearer of magnificent costumes.
D is a vintage automobile enthusiast – he’s collected some gorgeous cars and attended more vintage auto shows throughout the country than he can probably count.
D is so very generous – anywhere he goes, he comes bearing gifts selected with the recipients’ special interests in mind (a collection of vintage hand bags for me); he is always the suave host (even now as he is confined to bed he asks visitors if they’d like something to eat or drink); and he is unfailingly supportive and complimentary of other people’s efforts (the mud-green color I chose for my family room walls was universally hated by everyone but me, until D arrived and pronounced that that very color was going to be the next big thing.)
D leaves an indelible impression – the flash of his brilliant Hawaiian shirt as he inspects a vehicle at an auction; the happy grin as he dances effortlessly past, tossing and twirling a breathless partner; his solemn joy and pride in a special ceremony; the smiles of all his children, nieces and nephews, gathering around him at a picnic.
I wish for you a smooth ride to your destination, my dear friend.
Katrina






Mud puddle on flagstone, masquerading as abstract art.
First beans
Ancient lemon tree still going strong
Pyracantha in full flame
Mesquite pods
Baja Red Fairy Duster
Bouganvillea
I’ve had this shoe organizer in the hopper for a while now. I don’t know whether I mentioned previously that this is for The Piemaker’s shoes, which were jumbled in a mess on the floor. He has 20 pairs of shoes, not counting the motorcycle boots, hiking boots, cowboy boots and running shoes which are all piled up elsewhere, like the garage. The ones in the closet are expensive, good-quality shoes, and we were stepping on them and tripping over them every time we walked into the walk-in closet. Thus the need for the over-the-door shoe pocket hanger.
This is the result. The finished size is about 24” by 78”. The backing is two layers of cotton blend canvas, with an additional layer of stiff interfacing between. (You can see my basting stitches which I forgot to take out before the pictures.)
This pretty elephant fabric is another supposedly vintage bit of home dec yardage I got on eBay earlier this year, originally intending to do something kitcheny, I think, like an apron or tablecloth. But it was ideal for this project since the design was in a perfect pocket-size repeat across the fabric. The trim is from a set of Michael Miller Peacock Lane coordinates (quilting cotton).
Except in this photo, it’s not in the closet yet. Why? Because for the first time in years, I took a good look at our closet and was disgusted by what I saw. How did it get so unbelievably filthy? There was dust on all the clothes and shoes, the shelves were positively grimy, and even the walls were looking dingy. This is a smallish walk-in closet that we share (yes I do let him have space, but just in this one closet), with no window, so the only ingress for dirt is us. We are really not that dirty, I swear. Anyway, that discovery led to an all-day closet-cleaning event. I started when Piemaker left at 7 AM and was just finishing when he came home at 6 PM. I pulled every single item out, washed the shelves, walls and rods, dusted all the clothing, cleaned the hangers (and got rid of about 200 of them), dusted the shoes, vacuumed the floor to death and then put everything back in.
The hangers are not padded, it’s just an envelope of fabric that slides over the wire hanger to keep things from slipping off. However it would probably be pretty easy to add a layer of batting to the fabric when sewing, or you could wrap batting around the hanger before pulling the fabric over. There are lots of padded hanger tutes out there, but they are mostly for wooden hangers, and I really just wanted to spiff up some of the wire ones which we seem to have in abundance.
I must have passed the lions at least a dozen times on my way to do other things. I always thought there would be another opportunity, and I suppose maybe one day I will get a chance to go back.




Vogue 8749
I just love the deep red with the contrasting orange and blue. It seems to be a wool (heavy, scratchy) blend with rayon (drapey, shiny). I’ve had it in the stash for more than 10 years and although I think I might have gotten it at Hancocks, I can’t be sure. We haven’t had a Hancocks here for years, so that adds to the mystery.
Of course the Coldwater Creek version is a symphony in muted sophistication, and I refuse to clutter up my wardrobe with that kind of elegance, so I backed my ivory lace with contrasting black.
too many beets!
beet leaves for salad
cilantro, looking sad
bush beans!
hidden tomatoes
I’m not convinced this is a true chess pie, since I thought those were simple custard pies. However, I’m no expert since I’m only ¼ Southerner (Grandaddy from Alabama) and all the rest is Yankee. The recipe is yet another from Southern Living Magazine. I’m just going to cancel Martha Stewart and go with Southern Living now, their recipes are easier to make and consistently taste better than hers. Sorry, Martha!
We have 2 weeks to finish this one up, and then the serious holiday baking begins. We’re now in negotiations over the Thanksgiving offerings, but two are already established by tradition-we always have pumpkin and apple. What should our third pie be? Will I still be satiated with pecan, or should I put in a request for that? Something completely different maybe? Key lime would be great, but our lime tree decided to take the year off – not a single fruit on it! Ah, but the lemon tree is going strong – maybe lemon meringue. Never mind that we do not need three pies. That is beside the point.
Palm trees are a common sight here in Phoenix, but pretty blue skies and puffy clouds are not. This is the post-rain clarity that will turn brown again in a few days.
The ocotillo usually looks like a bundle of dry thorny sticks, but within a few days of rain it will be covered with small leaves.
More Book Covers!
Fabric organized! (temporarily)
Got some of this (crocheted zig zag novelty)
and this (striped denim)
