The Shop

A Place Where You Will Find Loveryly Gifts and a Few Personal Opinions

Friday, October 2, 2015

Changes~~Life is Full of Them~~Silk Scarves

October 2,2015

Time has past with such speed since I last posted, and many changes have occurred.
My grand-daughter was married last July. The wedding was beautiful,because she is beautiful.

Then very sadly, my son Eddie,Edward, who was living in Austria had passed away.I had not seen him in many years. But we did have the opportunity to talk via Skype for the last 3 years.   

As if life refused to come to a peaceful, healing rest, the youngest son whom I've lived with since 2007, accepted a new place of employment that took us all the way from Warren, Ohio to Colchester, CT. But the move did not take place in one giant leap. The house in Warren sold in two days, and we had 30 days to move out.
   My son came to CT. to begin his new position, my daughter-in-law followed shortly after and they moved in with my son's in-laws. I moved in with my oldest daughter in Hiram, OH.

In the meanwhile, I had supervised all the packing of my paintings that would be moved and kept in storage till my son and daughter-in-law found another house in CT.
My beloved silk scarves I decided to take with me to Hiram. OH. And I am glad I did, because while biding my time there, I sold a silk scarf!!

Leo The Lion~~

My son and wife finally found a lovely home in Colchester, CT.  They came to get me, the end of June. The place is quite large. I have all my silk dyes, along with the wooden frames I use to hook the blank silk scarves to, and dye.

Then I sold the lovely yellow hand designed panda  silk scarf after I arrived in CT.

I have not created any new hand designed silk scarves. I guess I am still settling into my new place. However, I am working  on a painting of hummingbird mother and her brand new brood.

Also, in between the changes in my life, I received the news the other day, that my Marine grandson, Zack-man(my endearing name for him) has been promoted to Corporal. 
 I often think of some of the words from this song taken from
" Fiddler on The Roof" 
"... Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as we gaze..."

Blessed be,

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Beautiful Things Come In Small Packages(The House Wren)

She's small but mighty! And yes, her color is  a drab brown,  the wren is not as sprightly colored as some other birds, but oh, this little powerhouse has captured not only my heart but scads of time just listening to, and watching her.
    I first encountered this tiny super-bird many years ago. My daughter and I were sitting in the backyard by the picnic table. She stopped our conversation and asked me, nodding her head in the direction of a bluebird house and said," What kind of bird is that  Mom? She  seems so smart?" At the time I had no idea what specie of bird this was,but she was busy  working at fitting a long twig into the bird house. She tried it length wise, finding this did not work, then  she turned it sideways and fed it through the tiny hole without another hitch. " And people tend to think that they are the only ones with intelligence." I replied. 
       This little brown bird with a perky uplifted tail caught my attention and I spent the rest of the summer trying to determine the species and to learn more about her. I observed her(him really) finish the nest and  then sound the news that she was looking for a mate. Using a  high pitched incessant chirping I noticed  many interested parties showing. The prospective mates   perched on the branches or jumped from branch to branch of the tree that held the birdhouse.
     Interestingly, the birdhouse was situated  next to where I parked my car in the driveway. I'd pull in 
and park about a foot away from the house. The wren would pop out of the hole, give a few scolding chirps, then flip her trail up at me, and re-enter the nest in the birdhouse.. Once she got used to our set up, she would pop out see that it was me and then she'd go about her business.

       It wasn't till the middle of the summer that I learned she was a wren. If you don't mind , I like to refer to the wren as a she, even though I read years later , that the male finds the nest and  sets it up.  He then courts the female wrens in the area until the right lady looks the nest over and approves and moves in. Take a breath. Then when he mates with her, he fly's off to another nest and mates with another female. So this hunk of male bird can have many off-spring. But, he also seems to find the energy and time to help feed his off spring and protect the nest. 
    I watched in mid to late summer, the baby birds perch at the hole in the birdhouse, while mother, father, and seemingly uncles and aunts in the area would perch on the branches outside of the birdhouse and chirp encouragingly to the fledglings. Sometimes if they were ready they'd fly to a nearby branch,when they were not yet ready, they'd shiver at the doorway and turn back to the safety of the nest.
   I did not realize that wrens were very possessive of their original  home sites until one day late in April and after a  chickadee had set up housekeeping, the wren returned and returned with a vengeance! The wren popped into the birdhouse, then came out to the opening with eggshell pieces in her beak. She basically spit it out onto the ground,went back in and repeated the process until the house was empty of the chickadee's eggs. She then flew off gathering dry grass and refurbished the nest to her/his liking. In the meantime I watched as the chickadee returned, popped into the hole then came out and sat in the opening with what I perceived to be a sad bewildered look on her face. Soon the tenacious wren returned and scolded the chickadee away;I was amazed and a bit sad for the chickadee.
   I moved to my son's home in "2006". I sorely missed the wren. My daughter-in-law bought a wren house and  hung it in a tree by the side of the driveway where I now park my car. Last spring '2012' a wren visited the house but evidently found it not suitable and set up nesting  somewhere else.
" What do you think is wrong with the house?"asked my daughter-in-law.   I had given this a lot of thought. " I think if you turn the house facing our front porch and driveway, next spring we'll have a 'wrenter'. 
     Spring of 2013 rolled around, and I listened with anticipation: I heard nothing. No sound of the vibrant incessant chirping of a wren. Then one day my daughter-in-law ran into the house and with an excited voice announced, "She's back!" 

I went outside , and yup, there she was gathering twigs and chirping as she went about her/his work--- So turning the birdhouse around to face our porch was the right thing to do. 
   Every late afternoon  this summer we went outside, sat on the porch swing watching her coming and going gathering insects. I loved listening to her bubbling  chirping. Think I'm crazy if you must, but I would call to her when I sat on the porch, and soon she'd fly out of her house right to a bush in front of the porch,she'd cock her head give me a look then fly off to find more insects for the babies.
    Talk about a tenacious bird. One day while standing by the kitchen window watching a chipmunk make his way up a bird-feeder  to perch himself near and partake of a suet block, she flew from her house to dive bomb him till he scampered down and skittered away. 

   About the third week in August she had raised her second clutch of babies. I went outside to call to her in the late afternoon, but heard and saw nothing. I walked up close to the birdhouse and noticed a twig placed crossways in the open hole of the birdhouse. She had left for the winter and blocked the entrance with a twig: Apparently she plans on returning come next spring.And I will sigh, welcome back the House Wren.
Offered for your enjoyment by Mysticsilks

Friday, April 12, 2013

Always saying, " This is the last time!"``by MysticSilks

Each time I finish creating a series of silk  scarves,I swear by the powers that be,that "This is the last time!" I'm getting too old for this 'stuff'."  Then something happens; some idea pops into my head,or someone asks me if I could create an image on a silk scarf and I'm at it again.

    This time around,a customer asked me if I could create another silk scarf with the astrological image of a 'Pisces':That's the fish sign for those of you who may have never heard of the signs of the Zodiac. "What Pisces scarf are you talking about?"I asked her. For the life of me, I could not recall ever creating one. Well,she sent me a photo of the scarf I had indeed created way back when.I wrote back to her and told her that I had not hand designed any more of those scarves.
   You guessed it. All of a sudden I got the bright idea of creating not one silk scarf with the astrological sign, but biting of a huge chunk of a labor of love(i.e., work) and hand designing all twelve of the signs. 
      May I add at this point, that I would agree  with  statement that all artists are a bit 'crazy','nuts',' not rowing with both oars in the water'. And, that is because when we get an idea for a new creation, we loose thought of all the labor intensive work that it entails. It's like childbirth,we forget the hours of pain we were in with the last birth, and go for the gusto again!
    I began to search online for stencils of the signs of the Zodiac. I found a set of 6 online. The description stated that the signs were six inches. Wrong! I discovered after ordering from the UK,to add insult to injury,that one stencil had six signs, that stencil was six inches!! They had to send me two with six signs on each, costing double postage(airmail). You can imagine my dismay when I opened each package and finding that each sign was only 3 inches!! I contacted them,(that's when I discovered the stencils came from London). Sure they'd let me return them. Cost me $12.00 for S&H,they wouldn't send me a return label,plus a $2.50 international charge on my credit card!! Thanks for allowing me to vent and verbalize my frustration. I guess I am still not that internet savvy when buying things on the internet.
             OK, deep breath. God is good! I continued my search and blessed be, I happened upon a site that had the exact size stencils I needed, and more blessing abounded, they offered the observer(me) to download the stencils and use them! I downloaded all twelve. Then I laminated each one, to protect it from whatever I splashed, poured, or wrote on them!

          I also did research on the colors for each astrological sign, then ordered the dyes,and blank silk scarves. I alerted the family that certain areas of the house would be a bit disarrayed til I finished. It always bothers my son when he finds my long straight pins on the floor. I don't do it intentionally,really.
   I said to myself,"Klaire, you're going to practice staying in the present moment,just like the Eckhart Tolle book"A New Earth" advises.You are not going to give a thought on how much work you have taken on, and how long you will be at this, till you complete not six scarves,as I usually do, but twelve! And, that's how I reached the completion of this series of twelve silk astrological signs of the Zodiac!!

I have added the photos: Aries, Pisces,next two are Gemini, Sagittarius,Leo,Libra,Scorpio,Virgo,Aquarius,Cancer,and Capricorn,Taurus:pay no attention to the last one. Leo always has to get his last ROAR in!

Thank you for visiting,MysticSilks 
 Aries,Ram,Silk Scarf,SilkScarvesWomens Accessories,Handmade,Zodiac,14x72 inches,

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Semper Fidelis`Semper Fi``Always Faithful

   Do you believe in destiny:The sense or feeling  that a life has been fated for what their purpose in life will be even before they arrived in this world?  I do. 
Zach, my grandson,was always challenging life,even at the tender age of 3..His Mom, my daughter, would call me from Georgia to catch me up on how the family was doing and what Zach's newest adventure was. 
"I don't understand the boy, "His Mom would say,"today I found him standing on a red fire ant hill. Those ants were crawling up his legs biting the heck out of him and he just stood there.I finally ran out to drag him off the hill." Another time I was chatting with her, and she related that Zach,now around 6years old, had climbed the neighbor's cyclone fence, had tumbled over. When she went searching for him, she found him with a huge Akita guard dog standing over him. Those dogs are noted as guard dogs and not fond of strangers. My hair was growing grayer after hearing some of her stories.

 I must have collected those stories and tucked them away for later in Zach's life,and when his family had moved back to Ohio,   when at the age 22 he had made up his mind that he was joining the United States Marine Corps. I was a bit taken back by his decision. "Why not join the Navy,the Air force,? How about the Coast Guard? Marine boot camp is very tough to get through." 
"I know,"he replied decisively. He had met a fella at the local  health club, and Zach discovered that this fella was going to join the Marines. He did a lot of internet research, talked to a  Marine recruiter, and began hanging out with a bunch of guys that were going in. 
The recruiter worked with Zach, coaching him on the physical requirements that it would take  to make it through boot camp on Parris Island. He worked out every day, began to curb his appetite of fast foods,and  to include healthy foods. He came over 2-3 times a week to swim in his Uncle's pool, building his breathing endurance. I would get in the pool to keep him company, and we'd talk about how tough and demanding his drill instructors would be. I said,"Zach,"you're going to handle the stuff they are going to put you through by knowing they're going to try and break you down both physically, but more so psychologically. It's head-game stuff Zach." "I know,"Zach replied.

   It all came back to me,Zach's early beginnings; his confronting fearful things with an equanimity which surpassed his young age;like he had purpose behind what we considered  painful experiences.I consoled his worried Mom. " He's made this decision. You know damn well, there is nothing you could ever talk him into or out of once he's made up his mind. Recall all the things he purposefully got into when he was young." She finally agreed the Marines were for Zach, and Zach was for the Marines! I did understand what Kim felt as a Mom. I went through those same feelings of separation when my youngest son, William went to the Coast Guard Academy in New London Conn. I was so sad, that after returning home, I had his sister Kim put his clothes in his bedroom. I just couldn't bring myself to deal with the huge void. God, the things that Mom's go through!
   On October  22,2012 Zach at age 22 years left for Parris Island boot camp. He flew from Cleveland to Savannah Georgia and was bused the remainer of the way. No drill instructors were on the bus, and he states, the ride was quiet;no one was chatting it up. Just thinking,just wondering what they had gotten themselves into. When at 1AM they finally arrived, he felt dead tired--he had not really slept well for 48 hours. And for awhile it was all down hill.
   When the bus pulled beyond the gates of Parris Island to the unloading area, a drill instructor boarded the bus. He laid out the rules. " Button your shirts to the neck! Tuck your shirts in your pants! No talking! You answer with a Yes Sir, No sir! Do you understand?" YES SIR, came the new recruits reply.
    They were told to all line up with their feet placed in the painted yellow footsteps of previous Marines from ages and wars ago. Those are honor footsteps a symbol of other young men who had joined the Marines, who had fought and given their lives for this country,The United States of America. Then Zach told me they were given the "Welcome to Parris Island"speech. After they were told to call their parent/s ,tell them they had made it safely:That was the last call, the last time they would hear from home till 13 weeks, and a different and changed man had come to pass..

(Zach's Platoon:1st Battalion,Delta Company,Platoon 1001)

   I asked Zach after he had graduated and was back home for a 10 day leave, what his most difficult experience was. "Being neat and orderly,making my 'rack'/ bed precisely the way the Drll Instructors had ordered us to. wanted it done all at a fast pace. I was never concerned as to whether I'd pass all the physical regimes they demanded of us;the pull ups, the sit ups;carrying 100lbs of gear on a long hike. That never worried me,it was keeping my'rack' and living area perfect and up to snuff."
"Had you ever given a thought to quitting,or giving up?" 
"Yea," he lowered his head,"but that was after the 1st 2 days. I was so tired physically and emotionally. But I never , nor did anyone else give voice to how they felt after those first few days. We just kept on keeping on."
(Zach's Platoon:1st Battalion,Delta Company,Platoon 1001)

His platoon, won the Honor's Platoon Medal for passing with excellence all requirements of the Marine boot camp. Zach is proud of that. 
"What was your most memorable experience Zach?"
"Well,"He looked thoughtfully at me,"Besides the graduation, I'd have to say passing the 'crucible'. The crucible," he went on," is a rigorous 54 hour exercise encompassing everything a recruit has learned in the 13 weeks of training. There are no cooked meals served. We ate MRE's(meals ready to eat)or boxed meals. We had walked 40 miles,our feet were blistered and sore. We had no sleep. But we kept each other's  moral and spirits up. We kept going knowing that when we made it through this last test, that we really had made it! 

We hiked back and were told to line up in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial where we then received the Marine emblem;the Eagle,the globe,and anchor. Then we went to the mess hall and were given "the warrior's meal"which consisted of almost anything you'd love to eat, and we had plenty of time to eat, too. There was no wolfing this meal down!!"

Left to right:Aunt TJ, Uncle Bill,Kim(Zach's Mom), and loving sister Becky 

Zach and Uncle Bill
Proud new Marine Zach
The second most memorable event was, of course, when I saw my family on graduation day.
I saw the proud smiles on their faces. Uncle Bill and Aunt TJ, drove my Mom and sister to Parris Island to attend my graduation!

Zach in Dress Blues

Zach and Sasha
    This photo was taken at Uncle Bill's and Aunt TJ's home after Sunday church. That's Sasha,their Akita dog. Sasha doesn't give her affections easily and in some cases with people not at all. But she loves her Zach man!
Zach wanted me to add, that he appreciated everything his drill instructors taught him---They were fair, and they cared about the new recruits.

I am Zach's, Babs(grandmother) and the composer of this blog.

 OORAH, Zach!! One of "The Few, The Proud, The Marines"

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Thank you for reading--:)


Saturday, October 20, 2012

Unusual Etsy Treasury! Things That Go Bumpo In The Night

I haven't spun off a blog post in quite  a while. 
Today is a coolish, gray, rainy  day ,and me with little to zero ambition to accomplish much.
I may just punk out and spend the day on a Robin Cook marathon CD day--I am enthralled and totally addicted to his captivating stories:Think I should call Dr. Phil for help? Maybe he'll send me to one of his camps for people with addictive behaviors---I would not mind as long as i can listen to robin Cook CD's stories;but that would defeat the purpose of going to therapy,huh?
I spent some time this morning creating a treasury on etsy consisting on the 'unusual'--go take a peek and leave a comment, too:

And while you are on etsy take a look at my shop: htttp://

Saturday, June 23, 2012

A Treasure From Long Ago`by MysticSilks

A few week ago, I was sorting through an old box of memorabilia looking for photos that I had tossed into the box with the future goal of putting them into albums. I did get the new albums and began the long process of sorting and organizing. 

As I was sorting I came upon a canvas folded in fourths;a hell of a thing to do to a painted canvas I thought. I began to unfold it carefully, and discovered it was a paint-by-number. I looked at the signatures and date listed at the right bottom side of the canvas.There was my name, my brother's, and last my Mother's with the date of 7/19/1953.

1953: Fifty- nine years old ! The painting was a street scene in Paris. From the style of clothing , I am guessing maybe from the early 1940's.

I sat holding that painted canvas, and the years melted away back to that hot summer of 1953.
I think my brother and I had been bored with staying inside due to the extreme heat of that summer. We had a nice finished basement, that was at least ten to fifteen degrees cooler than the upper part of the house: In those days, the early 50's, air-conditioned houses were only a dream of the future.
 Mom went out shopping one day, and as always I was helping to put away the groceries that she purchased. I noticed a long package wrapped in brown paper at the end of the table. 

" What's that , Mom,?" I asked. " Never mind. You just finish with your chores then I'll show you." I could feel the excitement growing inside me.  The country was still rebounding from the depression, and people held that poorness inside them, so that seldom were the times during those days, that nice surprises occurred.

I completed my chores, then Mom grabbed the package and headed for the downstairs, she said, 
" Follow me." I ran after her following her down the stairs careful not to run her over in my enthusiasm to see what that package held.
She placed the package on the table and removed the box from inside. I saw the title " Paris in the Summer" written on the box, and under it, paint-by-number.

Mom opened the box removed the canvas and on it were what seemed liked thousand of little numbers inside blank images. Sometimes certain numbers repeated themselves , and there were some that had maybe a few numbers that were duplicated. I was confused and backed away from the table.
   " Where are you going ?" Mom asked. " You know numbers and me don't' get along well, Mom."
" Oh, get back here you goofus ." She scolded with a hint of laughter in her voice. " You do not have to add them or subtract them. See these small cups with paint inside? See the number marked above them? You simply use the numbered paint in the same number marked on the canvas."
 I heaved a huge sigh of relief and moved close to the table again.

" Sit down here beside me. And I'll start you off and show you how to do this." I moved in closer than a hug, but not so close as to bump her arm: This was serious work, I thought.
  The kit came with oil paints, a small bottle of turpentine,  two  paint brushes with very fine bristles, and about a dozen toothpicks.

" What are the toothpicks for?"
"Watch, I'll show you. When you open the oil paints, see the oil floating on top of the paint. You use the toothpick to gently stir and blend the oil into the paint."

I watched as she stirred the small  blue cup of paint.
Then she said, " You must do this every time you begin to paint. And you must remember to use the same toothpick in the same color that you first use it in."
Then she picked up the brush, looked for the number that matched on the canvas and began to paint it in with the corn-flower blue. I was mesmerized! 

" Now, after you finish using that color. See this bottle, she picked up the bottle of turpentine. You dip the brush in and clean the color off. Here's a rag to use to make sure the brush comes clean.
You do this each time you start a new color.Understand? " I nodded.

   Mom, got up from the chair and motioned for me to sit in her place.  I sat down shaking with excitement. I gazed at the canvas, then back at the oil colors. " I like the red." I turned to look for her approval. " Then use it," she replied. I opened the lid on the small cup, and carefully stirred the oil into the red paint. I picked up the brush, ever so gently dipping just the tip into the paint, then began to apply the paint to the corresponding number on the canvas.
 Some where in my cloud of joy, I heard Mom climbing back up the stairs. How long I worked on the painting that day, I don't remember. Maybe, till I heard Mom call me to help set the dinner table.
My brother Jim's name  is on that painting. I think he wondered what was keeping me so occupied downstairs and wonder down to ease his curiosity. He might have asked me, if he could try to paint some. I, feeling quite possessive, must have given him the very strictest of instructions, and hovered close by to make sure he followed them. I'm not sure he   felt the same excitement that I had, because he soon left the table, and I can't recall him coming back to paint again.
 Also, because so many years have passed, I can't remember how long it took to finish the painting. I know I relished each new painted image  as it appeared. And when the scene was completed maybe a month or so later, I remember  Mom  saying that I had done a fine job. " And when it dries, Sis, it will be yours."
 Some how through all these years it sat there in that box. I asked my son, what he thought I should do with it? " Well, for sure , don't leave it folded up in a box. get it mounted."

A week later I found myself in an art gallery, and for the cost of $75.00, much , much more than the original paint-by-number kit had cost, I had it done.

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 Thank you,