pennejefford.blogspot.com

Saturday morning is always 'mine' in the house.  The golfer departs early and the morning stretches in front of me with time to quietly create, silence, time to think and dream.  Winter is here now and rain later today will see the fire lit tonight to curl fingers of warmth through the house.  We have short winters here and there are few fireplaces in my neighbourhood except perhaps the one next door.  There is something really lovely about the smell of woodsmoke permeating the air.  The cats of course adore the chance to curl up in front of the fire place. My mother has passed away now.  Little momentos from her house now in mine, the photos she kept on her sideboard, nic nacs, little statues of cats and some of her paintings.  I feel like she is living here now, its just that I cannot talk to her any more which is very sad.  I always rang her on a Saturday morning, she would be doing the washing and sometimes did not take too kindly to me upsetting her little routine.

My mother is leaving, she has terminal cancer.  The saddest part is you suddenly realise that your connection to your distant childhood past is going with her.  Who will you talk to about stories from so long ago.  The night she gathered up the autumn oak leaves from the road in the car headlights, the air bitter and cold.  They magically became a fancy dress piece titled "Autumn" for my school presentation evening.  She has forgotten it now, I tried to tell her the other day it is one of my favourite childhood memories.  I have been working with rusting fabrics and making wall quilts.  My childhood was spent in the country around Armidale and I used to spend hours in my grandfather's wool shed, I can still see the sunlight on the floor there.  The rusted quilts are all created with my memory of shed walls and rusting tractors and tin rooves.  So today I am putting this piece up in honour of my mum.  She may have forgotten a lot now but I will always remember.  She i