Dance of the Seven Veils

I was listening to NPR yesterday and an author used the phrase,"dance of the seven veils," I realized it was a quote I had not heard in years.  I was wondering what I had to reveal, today for no reason I re-read some FB notes.  I realized these notes removed three of the seven veils.  I am going to do small stories on the remaining four.  Don't worry I won't get down to naked, under my veils I will have a on morphsuit.  Not familiar with a morphsuit, next time I will post the funniest picture.  I am revealing my love of clutter, shortcomings pertaining to age, and my - fictional of course - mother's craziness.

Minimalism and Me

Saturday, June 5, 2010 at 12:22pm

Just out of college I got a job with a Knoll dealer in San Francisco. I loved learning about design, furniture, textiles and art. I was drawn to modernism and minimalism. I loved the ideas of the Bauhaus movement and Phillip Johnson. The clean lines and strategic placement of one piece of furniture was quite appealing. I live in a modern house, but have always wished for a wrap-around porch with a big swing.

In my heart of hearts, I am far from a minimalist. I love clutter, cutesy little items and just generally stuff. I was fooling myself into being something I am not. I am most comfortable surrounded by overstuffed chairs, full bookcases, home-made knick-knacks, books - lots of books, crammed closets and cabinets, blankets and towels, overflowing junk drawers and crowded desks, brightly colored pillows, endless Christmas decorations, spice jars, photos and frames, art on walls and craft supplies. I love the promise of what might be in a closed container.

Being a clutteraholic is made easier with children, stuff randomly appears. It is fun to get out a wine glass and have a Lego arm inside of it. We have a lot of one-armed Lego Mans, remember, Darth Vader cuts off Luke's arm? The clutter is monumental right now, because the kids have brought all of their stuff home from school. I have piles of books, paper, pencils, socks, art projects, back packs and certificates abandoned for summer all over the kitchen and diningroom. Every last item is a treasure! So I will sift through it and jam into closets and the back room. The beauty of all this junk is I can pull it out on a rainy day and the kids will spend hours lining up ceramic skunks.

The burden of having only one of each thing weighs on my mind. If I have four plastic schlocky bowls......then who cares if one breaks? Who cares if one of the bowls is taken outside to make a worm habitat? Who cares if one is filled with Cheetohs and taken to a barbecue, never to return again? Buying a bulk box of tape allowed Ian to use an entire roll making a paper football/hockey/lacrosse field. The possibilities are endless. I have shoved my appreciation for clean lines into a back cupboard, sometime I will find it again.

I Have Never Been Graceful, So How Can I Age Gracefully

Monday, April 13, 2009 at 10:04am

Most mornings I wake up and think, "hmmm, I look pretty good". Today was one of those days where there is no fooling myself. I don't look a day under forty-four. In the movie "Freaky Friday", Lindsay Lohan's character looks in the mirror when she realizes she has become her mom and shouts, "I'm the crypt keeper". That is one of my favorite lines and today I feel like the crypt keeper. This might have been brought on by two of my kids having birthdays, but I think it is all the commercials for anti-wrinkle cream. We were watching tv when one of those commercials came on. Two of my kids are leaning around to look at me, and then they look away quickly. It is quiet for a minute and then one of them says, "so mom, have you thought about trying one of those?". I guess my laugh lines do look like wrinkles and my age-spots really don't look like freckles.

When I was YOUNG I always did that higher math to figure out how old I would be when the year 2000 came about. I could not imagine being so old as to be thirty-five. Now if my body doesn't crap out I will be forty-five in 2010. I guess I shouldn't complain, I am still young at heart. What a load of crap that is. It is the american way to look good at all times forever. I guess a cocktail every morning at 8:00a.m will blur the wrinkle lines. But then what to do about all of the sagging? There are things sagging that I had no idea could sag. I do have very pert, perky boobs... oh yeah, they are silicone. Besides, everything around them is hanging to the floor, my under arms flap in the breeze. My butt doesn't sway, it jiggles. Are mumus in this year? Writing mumus reminds me of Ellen bringing home the spelling word tipis. I am thinking what the hell is a tipis? It is the plural of tipi. This leads nicely into the other part of aging!

I have never been a mental giant, but now I am a mental midget. I think I have forgotten way more than I every learned. It is better off not to ask me things, because I won't know. What time is it? Don't know, I can't find my watch. Where does Bob live? Somewhere in Wales, that is part of Scotland, right? I read this great article in the paper last night, it was about, about, about.....,oh drat? I CAN recite Good NIght Moon. All the great literature is in board books.

I am off to do, hmm what am I supposed to be doing.

A Weekly, Sometimes Bi-Weekly, Conversation

by Toni Killefer on Saturday, February 7, 2009 at 2:20pm

Two characters, Trudi and Joni

Hi, it's mother calling.
Hi.
How are you?
Fine.
Do you still have cancer?
Yes.
Have you seen a Dr?
Yes.
What are they going to do?
Surgery.
Is this a good idea?
I don't know, but I don't have a choice.
Did I tell you that your brother is a miracle? He is just a miracle. His life is a miracle.
Really?
Did you know he is going to Afghanistan?
Mom, I think he is moving to Colorado Springs in 3 weeks.
But did he he tell you he is going to Afghanistan?
No.
He probably didn't want to worry you.
Joni thinks to herself, "then why the fuck are you telling me this?"
Is anyone helping you after surgery?
Yes, Sheri is coming to help.
Oh, that's good, because I am too busy to come help.
Really, too bad.
This deal is about to break open and I really need to be here to work with the financiers.
Sounds exciting.
It has taken me awhile to get back on my feet. You know I helped your brother? He is just a miracle. His life is really a miracle. When he goes to Afghanistan he will be on the front line. God is watching him though, he is a miracle.
Mom, he is the chaplain's assistant. He answers the phones. He won't be on the front line.
You are always so negative. If you would just be happier and have a positive attitude, then your cancer would go away and this part of your life would be behind you.
Thanks, I will try to be happier.
I am on my face right now just praying for you. I am praying, praying, praying for you-right now, praying for you. Did I tell you that your brother is just a miracle.
Mom, I have to go, really, I have to go. Bye. Thanks

Pitnicking and Panicking

Pitnicking is the title of October's quilt.  I enjoyed making this quilt. 

Usually I am doop-de-dooping through my day, but this afternoon I was on a schedule.  Wouldn't you know that I would bump into someone I hadn't seen in years and this person had a story to unload.  His soon to be ex-wife had JUST given birth to a baby.  I guess he found out nine months ago she was cheating with someone from work.  The baby's father has 5 other children with 3 other women.  There were plenty more details, but I was trying to walk away without appearing rude or uninterested (which actually I am).  As I am sprinting off in a panic not to be late, he shouts that we should go to lunch.  A big N-O on that one, it sounds like an episode from bad tv.

I have not been reading much, but finished "Outcasts United" by Warren St. John.  I wish I had read it a couple of years ago, when Luma came and spoke at McD.  I was impressed with the book.  It tells the story of a Jordanian woman, Luma,  who starts a soccer team for refugee boys in the Atlanta area.  The staggering part was hearing the stories of the boys.  I had forgotten about the atrocities in the Congo, the Lost Boys of Sudan and the ethnic cleansing of Kosovo.  I had never heard of the Nuba valley and other regions where the boys came from.  I recently read "Little Bee" which also deals with refugees, it is a subject I feel sadly we don't understand. 

In college when I flew back from Hong Kong, the airline loaded the plane with refugees from somewhere in Asia.  It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen.  These people had nothing, everything about them was drab and defeated, I truly was struck by the lack of color.  They were each clutching a clear plastic bag that had an orange or a roll or a pair of socks - some small personal thing.  They loaded them on first and put up another curtain so there would be no interaction.  I often have wondered where they were all going and if they have done well. 

I am going to try and go to bed, but it sounds like the people behind me are having a monster truck rally.  I may have to get out the binoculars and spy on their activities, although it might require night vision binoculars.  My neighbor spying is not that high-tech.  I can't decide if I am hearing go-carts or chainsaws.

Flip Flop Flee

Things have been lousy around here.  I can't actually mention what is going on, because the kids are dying of embarrassment.  I have been spending mucho time washing and COMBING hair.  I have washed and or bagged every piece of upholstered item in multiple rooms.  Turns out you can hire a professional "picker" to come take care of this, I am on the cusp of doing it.  It is outrageously expensive, but urchin number one has missed two days of school.  I have never wanted a test to be passed so badly.

I escaped the infestation this weekend by going to DC.  I got to take the White House Garden tour.  It was a beautiful day.  I spent all Saturday downtown seeing the sites.  I did not see the new MLK monument, too crowded and too far off the mall for casual walking.  I went to Eastern Market, which was a really wonderful area I had not been to.  We walked the open air market and then strolled to the Capitol. 

I have the idea for my October quilt.  I was looking at my refrigerator quilts and reflecting on how quickly a year goes by - crazy. 

I am off to do something new like go grocery shopping.  Once again it is old mother hubbards cupboard around here.  We are down to condiments and the gross ones at that.

Pain in the Neck

Hole Schmole is what my friend's thirteen year old said when he got to the rim of the Grand Canyon.  I on the other hand thought it was a magnificent pain in the neck.  You were either sore from staring straight down or you were sore from staring straight up.   It was incredible.  It is crazy to think Powell and his team rode the entire Grand Canyon in a wooden boat, for 110 days.  Two of them didn't have enough and rode on to the Sea of Cortez.  Crazy!

My other favorite spot was Montezuma's Well, despite it's proximity to a casino, it was a mystical place.  Around the year 1100 Indians dug a canal out of an existing sinkhole.  They had a channel of water that ran for a mile. The water stayed 76 degrees year around and provided what the people needed to grow vegetables.  We took Tummi Bear along (Chummi's brother) and wouldn't you know that Tummi decided not to leave the mystical well.  I hope he found a nice home with one of the kids that was playing up by the water.  The well had a feeling of peace and serenity, it had more feel to it than the vortexes of Sedona.  I hope one of Chummi and Tummi's siblings might like to venture out in the world, the whole travel thing isn't working out very well. 

I made my September quilt, but I don't have the picture loaded yet.  It is a view of Sedona, but it doesn't quite look right.  I have to use only existing supplies and I own no brown fabric or thread.  It looks too green and bright, not the right shades of red, rust and dark brown.  I gave Teri a squirrel quilt, but forgot to take a picture.  I think she got the only brown fabric I had. 

I am off to save us all from the saxophone.  Why is it so loud, do they make a sound dampener for the sax?  The pets and I got lucky, because Ian was not chosen to play the tuba.  I think the triangle is a very nice instrument.