July 2006 Archives

The last few weeks our son has taken an interest in cooking. I guess with college looming it occured to him that he did not know how to feed himself. And like every creative pursuit he tends to go all out. But this new pastime has made his mother SO happy. Cooking has never been my favorite thing. For me it is mostly a chore, although on rare occasions I might enjoy the creative process of it. Bryan, on the otherhand, is a wizard in the kitchen and the plates he creates tend to look like something off of Emeril Live. I guess Daniel is following suit.

Yippee.

Taking a few lessons from his dad, Daniel is getting some culinary training. And last night, while Bryan and I were working on the yard, Daniel announced that he would take care of dinner.

I've died and gone to heaven.

Too bad he leaves for college in a few weeks.

Breaded fish, sauted peppers, carrots, and wild rice with shitake mushrooms. Dessert-cinammon broiled plantains.

Don't you think that boys never really grow up, they just get a bigger sand box?

Here is my sweet hubby in our sand box. This summer's remodel project takes us outside. We ambitiously attempt to solve a problem retaining wall.

Bryan playing with the grown-up Tonka.

My artist date-friday is in full swing as I honor the time that is set aside every friday to fill the creative well. Brushes await but I had to report that last friday I managed to finish "my beach in a bottle" pendant. Quite a task after not doing anything with metal for such a long time. And I didn't burn down the house! Amazing.

Anyway, here it is, my abstraction of the sun (citrine-yellow stone) rising over my beach (sand in the bottle). The amethyst (my favorite color) symbolizes the connection of the beach as a source of creativity and hope of things to come (spiral).

I wore this while visiting the national cathedral on tuesday with my brilliant girl pal Jen. Sitting in that sacred space listening to the harpist that was playing I contemplated what this mondo vision would/could grow into. It would be the most satisfying thing ever to be able to create a beautiful and inviting space for artists to come and be inspired, creatively and spiritually-connect with other artists and be able to intersect each other's creative journeys.

As I sat listening to the beautiful music I looked over to see two women sitting a few rows up, embracing. It was the kind of embrace that had a story. Probably sorrow. I sat watching as these two remained embraced for a very long time. One seemed to be comforting the other, and there was such simple purity in the act. Support, encouragement, connection. Inspiring. That is what I would like to create with the artist's retreat.

Weighing the endless details of what it takes to make such a dream come true is not far from my mind. Yesterday I brought home a giant stack of books from the library to pour through for ideas about structure, design, and space in order to create the most inspiring setting possible. A lofty goal considering we only have one acre (and change) and an absolute laughable budget. But I have found that limitations, when viewed with an open mind, are often just creative parameters.

So as I continue to contemplate the nature of these artist spaces, I am off to fill the well. Today I hope to finish "Formation".

It is here, and I am honored to have my work on the cover. Introducing
Effloresce. A publication totally of WOMEN's voices in the emergent church.

They were also kind enough to publish my "Thin Places" on pages 8 and 9.

very cool.

One of the many joys in preparing for college for Daniel has been tests.

SATs, APs...

and blood.

I guess before setting foot inside a college these days they want to make sure you are healthy and fit and not liable to drop dead forcing the dean to make a very awkward phone call to your parents.

So I made the appointment for Daniel's physical next week. But they have to draw blood a week before so that all the info is in place for the doc to fill out her forms and give the big rubber stamp on the forehead that says

PASSED.

So Daniel fasts the night before and we get up early and head toward the clinic.

We have been blessed as families go being SUPER healthy and quite frankly I can't remember the last time that Daniel went to a doctor. Not once during high school, and as far as having blood drawn...hmmm. Never. So this was going to be a new experience.

We are greeted at the reception desk by one of those stereotype nurses that sort of scares you to death with her gruff attitude, but at the same time you know she is good at what she does. She tells us to "come on back" and we follow her down a narrow hallway to a station that is obviously designed for you to roll up your sleeve. She instructs Daniel to sit down on a stool and sizes me up with one look. Turns to Daniel and says,

"You aren't going to pass out on me are you?"

Understand that he has not even shown her his arm yet.

She must have observed something in him that I didn't even see because she shifted gears and moved him into a little room that had a chair with a back on it "so I can catch him", she says. Like the experienced nurse she is, she talks at him and jokes with him while tying his arm, swabbing the vein and poking him with the needle.

No problem. Of course, it is only a little blood, big deal.

More chit chat as she labels the two vials of his blood, reminding him that next week he gets a shot (meningitis vaccine, oh fun) and we are done. The whole thing took about five minutes.

Having fasted he is dying for coffee so we exit the clinic and he is feeling pretty good. It wasn't so bad. We laugh at the nurse and view the experience as over.

We are in line at Starbucks and as he is placing his order for a white chocolate mocha, it hits him.

"I feel light headed".

Me standing next to him realizing that we are in trouble. His lips are turning white, and the Starbucks clerk looks at him...

"Are you Okay".

Wrapping up the transaction(real quick) we speed him over to a table and chair trying not to knock over the other Starbucks clientele.

Now Daniel is looking like he hasn't seen the sun in a decade, the blood has completely drained from his face. I am busy sizing up the room figuring out how to get him to the car. We sit there while he takes a few deep breaths and then...

he wretches (now I know why they make you fast for twelve hours before they draw blood) and he dashes toward the men's room. I follow him and he stops just before the door. I figure I'll give him a second and go back to the table. Going back to check on him I find him on the floor in front of the men's room. He hasn't passed out yet, but seems to be on the verge.

"Let's get you out of here", and we dash toward the door, me prepared to catch him if he goes down.

We get him in the car and he puts his seat back and he looks okay but still kind of fragile.

And I start to laugh.

Okay, that sounds really cruel, and understand that my maternal sensors are at full blast observing every detail of his skin color, posture, etc, watching closely for any red flags that may indicate that something is seriously wrong.

But it is simply a highly sensitive person's reaction to never having their blood drawn. He had gotten so worked up internally about the unknown nature of this physical exam, that it took ten minutes for it to finally hit him.

The nurse had been right. But Daniel's timing is a little off.

So we get home and get him on the couch. Still feeling lightheaded, I get him some cereal and he begins to eat and relax.

And I start laughing again.

And he laughs too.

Ah, the joys of going to college.

I had finished this a few months ago before the start of "formation" but never photographed it for some reason. Anyway, another installment of thin places, "Drum Circle" captures a conversation honoring the heritage of women and drumming. The heralding of events or celebration was the topic of conversation with a friend and amazing percussionist, Sherri Pfaff. This painting is my visual expression of the spiritual sister connection that was felt in that moment. Having seen and heard Sherri on drum and experiencing her exuberance is embedded in the thought of this painting as well. Thanks Sherri for the inspiration!

Got the letter today.

The letter from MICA that informs us of Daniel's housing assignment. He moves into his apartment exactly 5 weeks from today. Reading the letter made me weak in the knees. Strange feeling. Exciting, scary.

I guess this little transition is going t o be harder than I thought.

Anyway, it was good news as he shares a four bedroom apartment with three other guys (they each get their own room thankfully). I registered him the second he got accepted because separate rooms were on a first-come first-serve basis. Daniel would go buggy if he had to share a room(that sounds like we have really spoiled him or something, but reality is he is an only child in a house of introverts-do the math). So he has apartment mates. That he can handle. One from OH, one is from PA, and one is from Istanbul. Cool. The letter talked about move-in procedures and orientation.

It sounds so much like summer camp.

Orientation. Orientation for the new students.

Re-orientation for parents. Or is it dis-orientation.

We will see.

Back at my desk and the post trip letdown has hit me. I totally expected it but it still feels crappy. It is the ebb and flow of living. The excitement and wonder of our bahama adventure is now bookended by sitting at my desk coursing through the necessary mundane tasks that make such dreams possible. The yin and yang of it. It is always a challenge at this point to be truly productive and focus. The big temptation is to sit and stare at pictures for hours on end. Doing that will get us no closer to the next phase of the dream though. Instead it must propel and motivate me forward.

Well, that sounds nice anyway.

I am researching the next part and sometimes I forget that the research is a valuable piece of the puzzle. Although it seems like a big time-waster because there is no tangible result that I can check off a list somewhere. I have this weird tendency to overlook what has been accomplished when overwhelmed by daily stuff.

Silly isn't it.

Oh yea, it's tuesday.

"I wrote the last word last night", was what Daniel said to me this morning. A big grin on his face and a very satisfied expression.

"Really? for real, your finished?"

"Yup".

For the last several years Daniel has been writing a story (the word story just doesn't cut it but that is the best I can do). It began as one epic and while sloshing through plot revisions and such a second story emerged that took on a life of its own. This second novel began about a year and a half ago. And today it is finished.

And it is really awesome.

Of all of my son's apparent interests and talent, I think his writing is the most profound and powerful gift that he has. Writing has been a constant for him since he was about 10. He started writing a column for a magazine that I was designing for and every month he submitted a very cool little article about science or art from a kid's perspective. It was called Kid's Korner and he did that for about six years. What a great experience that was.

Anyway, "the novel" (the first one) has followed us from middle school through high school. The big question was, "will he finish this new story before he goes off to college?"

Having faith in this work, Bryan and I did not impose a traditional "go out and get a summer job" attitude towards Daniel. We have encouraged this gift for a very long time and I haven't blogged on this story or the journey of it because it didn't seem appropriate. Mom imposing expectations and all that. But Daniel proved extremely disciplined in his pursuit of the finished product. His daily writing schedule divided into three parts, Bryan and I watched as he produced page after page. Each morning he would email me the latest pages and I would anxiously await the next part of the story (because, frankly I was hooked). And today I got the last pages. So we celebrate an amazing personal accomplishment for Daniel. His first real manuscript.

It is called "Children of Falin".

It is an allegory of the ancient church set in the future.

It is 453 pages long.

It is very very cool. (ok big time mommy bragging rights here)! I will see if he will let me post an excerpt or two here on my blog.

Of course now comes editing and proofing and all of that, and then the very big question of how/where/who do we get to publish it.

Congrats Daniel!! You are amazing!

I was determined to honor my artist-friday. No email, no work, just a complete creative diversion. After being in the bahamas I was reminded how much I need this for my creative health. The artist in me can easily get buried by the business person in me and then I wonder why I am miserable.

So today I did something that both exercised a creative muscle and celebrated our bahamas dream at the same time.

I pulled out my torch.

There is a section of my studio that has a workbench set up for silversmithing (a past creative life) but it was covered with junk and boxes, etc. I decided that I needed to make a pendant to commemorate the Mondo Beyondo. This pendant will hold some of the sand from our beach.

So I spent the morning cleaning off the workbench, dusting off old tools, testing my torch, and picking through my old supplies.

It is so weird how you can do something for years and then forget it all. Things that used to take me minutes seemed totally elusive. So I didn't pressure myself because that would have totally ruined the whole artist-date. Instead I treated myself like one of my metalsmith students (I taught a few people back in '92) starting with the most basic principles of heating and bending the silver. Soldering and filing. At first it felt so foreign, like my mind knew what to do but my hands had forgotten everything.

Then it started to feel familiar. A long way to go but I didn't accidentally melt anything (which is usually the novice thing to do) and I managed to put something together that I am pretty proud of. But most important was the creative exercise that I got. Only once did I feel the urge to stop "because there were more important things to do". And I ignored that. I hope to finish the pendant next friday.

Back at my desk digging through oodles of paperwork I am regularly changing my desktop picture to one of the various pics of "our beach". Not feeling too creative because of the predictable post-trip letdown, but had to report some creative goings on while we were on d' island.

Not only did we haul all the required photo gear, but the guys also opted to bring their creative stuff. Bryan brought a mini keyboard and wrote some new music that you can find on his blog here A piece he calls Bahamian Breeze.

And Daniel brought a giant tube filled with canvas, oil paint, and brushes (which was a joy going through airline security with) and one stormy day painted this.

Hopefully others will be as inspired when they come to our artist's retreat.

north side of island at the columbus monument. Daniel shot this from a precarious perch

southside of island. Daniel shot this one as well.

the island's other inhabitants.

sunken boat.

father jerome's other church.

ophelia.

father jerome's first church.

Last friday (the day after we got home from our glorious trip) I went to the doc for the "treatment". It turned out not to be so bad and today I am dizzy-free. The epley maneuver worked! The bad news is that this particular condition almost always returns within 5 years. But if it does, they just repeat the treatment.

I am just so grateful that now when I tip my head the room doesn't pitch with it. Yea!

Only a few hours left on the island as we leave early in the morning.Bryan and I head for the north in search of some fish. Although we brought all our underwater gear, we have only used it once for about 45 minutes in the whole ten days. All of the land looking, working and research left little time for filming fish. We had hoped to get in some scuba but the outfit of our choosing had a broken boat. The one thing that Bryan really wanted to do was get the gear in the water one last time.

Bad weather an a few wrong turns left us at 4 in the afternoon which is not necessarily good for filming. That and after driving bumpy roads my mild vertigo was threatening to make me car sick. Determined we ended up back at the Columbus monument at a shallow cove at the base of that hill. Not too hopeful that we would see much, but not giving up we parked the car and hurried our gear to the water (lack of time and a desire to avoid the multitude of mosquitos that are about this time of year). We are merely snorkeling but with gear in hand we get into the shallow water.

OMG.

What a surprise. Not only were there lots of fish there were BIG fish. Alas, the rest is going to sound like a fish story. Too bad. And pictures won't prove anything because it is very hard to tell scale in a shot (unless you stick your finger in it).

Fish of every kind and color swam in this aquarium like environment. At one point I spotted a puffer fish that was probably a foot long (later excitedly explaining this to Bryan he asked "Unpuffed?" Yes, unpuffed.) He saw a grouper so large that it made him pause and reflect on the fact that we were the invaders and possibly just another addition to the food chain. I had to same reaction after having my head above water only to stick my face back in to confront an eighteen inch barracuda. But all was well and each fish checked us out as if we were just another fish.

Breathtaking.

Bryan on top of the rock that borders the north side of our beach. The cove and land that continues on is crown land which means that nothing will be built there. So we feel like we sorta own the cove too. At least we own the view!!

From further back you see the dark patches in the water. This is coral reef where, on a calm day (and they do have them) we can snorkel and fish for grouper and lobster.

The view looking south.

The cove to the north.

About 3/4 of the way back to the property line. Total parcel is 1.54 acre.

the way it looks on a piece of paper.

After a while, the rain died down a little and we decided to head toward the realty office in search of Jimmy and our contract. Daniel elected to stay in his cabin (on a creative writing roll). As we drove south along the main road we were glad that we chose land on the atlantic side on a hill. With so much rain, some of the other properties that we had viewed were under water. Earlier in the week what had been such a tough choice seem like such an obvious one now.

We made it to Jimmy's office and his assistant went across the street (at a little grocery store) to get him. He had said that he was considering coming to us later in the day and that one way or another we would connect. Island time.

I looked over the contract.

And signed.

With that signing opened a door to a whole new mondo beyondo list. It is a glorious list that will follow in the next few years as plans evolve and hurdles are jumped (cuz I know there are going to be lots of those).

But in ten days we got...

• Our land for the artist's retreat
• a builder-Damien
• a bahamian architect-Turnquist
• an architect and landscape architect that understand our dream

and a whole lot of friends on an island that I can't wait to get back to. And friends from other places too.

What a wild ride.

The next morning we scheduled to sign the papers at nine AM. At dinner Pierre asks us in his french accent, "Did you get your land?"

Not yet, but tomorrow we sign. My heart skipped a beat just saying it.

By now everyone in every cabin knew the business of each other and even Pierre was interested in the news. Pierre was a bit mopey because the newlyweds had elected to have their reception at Max's instead of coming back to Chez Pierre. He wasn't hiding that he was hurt. At that point I was glad that we had rushed back to make it to dinner because three more missing people would have been too much for this already moody frenchmen.

That night we awoke in our cabins to the absolute worst lightening and thunder I have ever lived through. Our open air cabins became simple pass-throughs for wind and rain. Although we had had rain earlier in the week this night topped them all. It rained all night and into the morning.

At breakfast we managed to make it to the main dining lodge without getting drenched, but it was clear that we were socked in and weren't going anywhere. As the nine o'clock hour came and went we sat enjoying god's fireworks over coffee, me thinking about the missed appointment. Phones were out too so we just had to chill. Everyone in the other cabins were doing the same. A visiting french couple canceled their fishing. An english couple canceled their snorkeling, and we waited.

The newlyweds tripped into the lodge laughing and drenched presenting us with their email address wrapped in plastic as not to get wet. Very important info for us to contact them later with wedding video and pics. They were supposed to leave that afternoon but were obviously watching the weather. We all chatted about the amazing storm the night before and then topics shifted. Bryan said to Aaron, "We never asked what you do", (we had obviously shared what we did hence the video-ing of the wedding but had never discovered Aaron and Rebecca's chosen professions).

"I am an Architect, and Rebecca is a Landscape Architect".

Whoda thunk.

"We would love to help you with your project".

All I can say is that you never know when random acts of kindness may swing back around.

After the wedding although we are invited to Max's for the festivities we have something important to take care of so we decline. Presley, Bryan, Daniel and I pile into the car and head toward the southern end of the island. One last look before we have to leave in a few days. Bryan also had the brilliant notion of taking home some of our beach in a bottle. So we do a little sand collecting and I begin to make big letters in the sand with my feet. When I am finished writing Presley looking puzzled asks (in that deep bahamian accent)...

"Miss Blair, Wha tis M-O-N-D-O?"

"It is a long story Presley, a long story".

But I don't leave him hanging and actually attempt to explain the notion of Mondo Beyondo (Thank you Andrea Scher) and he doesn't look any less puzzled but gives me a big smile anyway.

We rush to the south end of the island to set up our gear for the big event. Aaron and Rebecca have come here with only her sister and brother-in-law and a handful of island well-wishers. The sun has come out of an overcast sky and they stand in the sand to exchange vows. Rebecca found a hibiscus growing behind Max's grill and he let her pick one for her hair. After the vows they clime up the cliff to share some private words. Down below we all look as they jump together off the 30 foot cliff into the turquoise water. All of their new friend cheer as they swim to shore. Bryan, Daniel and I are madly filming each moment from various angles.

after the plunge, the veil and flower still in her hair.

This morning after breakfast we make the call to Jimmy to say...

Draw up the contract.

Yippeeeeeeee.

I can't even tell you how relieved, happy and excited that moment was. We make an appointment to sign papers tomorrow.

And now there is more work to do. We have hired Presley for the day to take us to some of the more out of the way places starting at the north end of the island.

Descending the hill of the Columbus monument. Dear old Christopher landed here first, declaring it the most beautiful island in the world.

Photographing and filming things as we go and chatting with Presley all the way he has an idea for someone we could interview.

Miss Ophelia Smith.

So we drop on by and wait in the car while Presley goes into her house to see if she would take some visitors. She chews him out for not inviting us in directly.

At 86 she farms her own land. A fisherwoman too, she is strong as an ox and healthy as can be. We cram into her little blue house overlooking the bay and ask her if she could tell us some stories. With a giant smile that I will never forget she says she has only one story to tell.

It is about God.

For an hour this amazing woman tells us how her and her daughter were saved from drowning in a storm when her boat sank. She told us of her life raising 10 children on her beloved island. Over and over she proclaimed, "I am rich on God's grace". At one point as we were filming she looked at us and said how wonderful it was that god brought angels to talk with her (us) and then she paused, blinked twice and looked at her daughter Betty and said, "Betty, go get them something cold to drink". We laughed. We knew that she was not entertaining angels unaware, it was only us, and we were the ones that were blessed. She told us about the day that her beloved husband died with her in his arms, "right on this couch after praying for all his children and saying how much he loved me". I discovered that holding my little camera steady is tough while wiping tears with my sleeve. At the end of the visit as we were bidding farewell, she grabbed my hand with both of hers, looked into my eyes and told me, "be so good to your man and you will have blessings".

What a dear soul.

What an amazing place.

The day is getting on and we are at the furthest north end of the island (which is only 70 miles long) and we have a wedding to catch. Off we go.

At the end of the day we trip back to the realtor's office to find out what is sure to be good news only to have the seller refuse the offer.

Conditions and restrictions were no problem, but they wouldn't budge on the price.

We leave Jimmy's office with a "we'll think about it" somewhat disappointed but shift into plan "B". We buy the beachfront and ask for first right of refusal on the second piece. There is no way for us to afford both at full price, and so this would be the next alternative. It would give us the option to buy it later for the same asking price (even though prices seem to rise daily).

One more night without closure... I am going to lose my mind.

Back at Max's Grill, here is Gary and Rebecca. We had met Aaron and Rebecca at chez Piere's and found out that they had come to the island to get married. Barefoot on the beach in front of Dean's blue hole (which is a beautiful natural phenomenon in the ocean, basically a big hole that drops 660 feet). Aaron and Rebecca have picked Max's as the perfect place for the post-vow reception. The whole island is invited.

Not a bad idea. Gary and his wife are incredible cooks. My personal favorite is his Conch salad. Raw conch, peppers, onion, celery, lime and orange juice (that cooks the conch). Yum

In passing conversation we mention to the couple that we have all sorts of video gear and would they like us to tape the wedding?

yup.

cool. We'll be there. Tomorrow at 4.

Now we are off to snorkel the blue hole and interview an islander, Mr. Cartwright. In the barrage of questions that I had for our realtor, Jimmy, I had mentioned our desire to meet some folk that have lived here all their lives. Mr Cartwright was Jimmy's first pick. Known as the island's story man, he was perfect. Jimmy arranged a meeting at 2.

Gracious and friendly with an incredible memory at age 84 this dear man told us stories of the island of his youth. He also favored us with the 23rd psalm, the beatitudes, and the Lord's prayer all committed to memory.

Over dinner one night our Orlando friends Terri and Lee mentioned that they met a builder on the island and had made an appointment with him to go over their project. Since we were all trolling for the same info, they graciously invited us along to meet this man and see some of his work. So in the morning we headed out and by noon I knew we had our builder. Not to mention the wealth of information he had to share, he was also very meticulous about his work. He also had seen the property we were considering and said it was buildable. We also learned that in order to build here you need to have a bahamian architect (pronounced ch like in match). So the advice is to find an architect in the states to draw your plans and then have a local bahamian redraw them. He has the name of such a person. Now we need one stateside who understands our dream.

Our fears put to rest about various maintenance issues on the atlantic side we decided to make an offer on the land. The piece that we had looked at was in a subdivision which had some advantages. Power, cable, and a road (soon to be paved). It also had some disadvantages. Restrictions. For what we wanted to create (a multi-unit artist retreat complete with a commercial art gallery) the restrictions on the contract were designed to keep it residential. I had taken a copy of these "conditions" and had basically highlighted what we wanted taken out, and added what we wanted...added, like a guarantee that the road would be paved, and the park next to our property would be developed.

There was also a parcel available behind ours at a substantially cheaper price, and so I made an offer to purchase both but at lesser total price. The other thing about buying bahamian is the land is taxed based on the purchase price, so I proposed that they add the two properties together (one expensive, one cheap) and sell both at an equal price which would save us 2 percent.

What the heck. The worst they could do is say no.

But Jimmy seemed positive that all our requests would be no problem. He had already inquired about the gallery and the sellers liked the idea and that it might turn into a feature to the development. Jimmy's task was now to contact the sellers with our offer and our instructions were to call back later for the verdict. Excited about his positive attitude we were on our way.

Here is Bryan after the phone call. Seller one has agreed. One down, one to go. That is me in the lower right corner in the rear view mirror, sitting in the car.

On sunday Presley invited us to his church. Another timing thing as this was the sunday that all of the churches (at least the baptist ones) got together to take communion. I figured that meant a whole lot of people and we could sort of blend in.

Ha.

The little church probably held fifty people, and being the only white americans there was no blending. And what a welcome we got. We were recognized and verbally welcomed from the pulpit, and after a very fire and brimstone-like sermon (which scared Daniel right out of the building) each pastor came up to us afterward to introduce themselves wished us many blessings and wanted to know when we were coming back. The sermon reflected the fact that there had been a funeral the day before, and on such a small island everyone was mindful of it.

Here a little girl peeks at me from a few rows up.

After church we were invited to Presley's for dinner. Ora had cooked an amazing meal of peas-and-rice, mutton and crab. We sat and chatted over the tv which Presley said they never turned off (seriously 24-7). I guess seeing tv come to the island in his lifetime makes it still pretty novel.

Presley and Ora's two children, Annee and TJ.

Other than scouting for artist retreat land, my other objective for this trip was photographing the culture, people, and sites for a book. An art form that is distinctly bahamian is strawcraft and Presley's wife Ora, and her sister Dyllis are skilled weavers. Before our arrival I had asked Presley to see if his wife wouldn't mind showing me some pieces and perhaps allowing me to photograph some swatches for the book. It just so happened that the previous week all of the weavers on the island had sent their work to Nassau for a show and it had all just come back and ALL of it just happened to be at Presley's house.

Talk about timing.

And if that wasn't enough, Ora and Dyllis wove me swatches on the spot of the various patterns. Names like "peas and rice", "fish pot", and "sour sop".