The Many Walks of Type 1 Diabetes

For those who have a child living with Type 1 Diabetes, there are many walks in life that others will never take. For our family, the first of these walks occurred when our youngest daughter, Maddie, was 7 years old. We walked her into Brenner’s Emergency Room, after having been told by our pediatrician that folks were waiting for her there, to take care of her.  After 3 days of learning how to administer novolog and lantus shots, how to test blood sugars and count carbs, among a myriad of other frightening and sobering things to watch out for, we walked her out of Brenner’s Children’s Hospital and drove home to begin our new life.

From there, we began the daily short walks to the spot in our kitchen where all diabetes supplies were housed…test kit, carb-counting book, insulin pens, alcohol swabs, tissues, and a chart for recording all the data. We have walked with her to and from the car when visiting her diabetes educator and doctor appointments every six weeks. We have walked in and out of her elementary, middle, and high school when emergency supplies were needed. We have walked in and out of pharmacies for the necessary medical supplies. We, as her parents, have walked her to soccer games, gymnastics, marching band…always wondering if she will need the extra juice boxes we have brought with us, or if some other diabetes related issue will arise.

Our nightly walks are the ones that have perhaps logged the most miles…a midnight and 3 am blood sugar testing requires walking back and forth from our room to hers. Depending on the number, once we test her while she sleeps, it may require a walk downstairs to get more juice or other supplies to tend to the errant numbers.

We begrudge none of these walks! Indeed, we would walk to the end of the earth and back for her if it meant helping in some way to alleviate the affects of Type 1 Diabetes on her body over the long haul. We are so very grateful for all the medical advances and technology that make her life less complicated than those who have dealt with Type 1 in past years. But there is a long way to go before a Cure is hers. And to that end, we walk another kind of Walk…the JDRF One Walk each year.

Maddie loves the JDRF Walks every fall! We are always amazed at the amount of support from friends, family and folks around the globe who have donated to JDRF in her honor. And then to walk with friends and family on that day along with so many others, truly makes us feel like we are not alone! When Maddie entered high school last year, it was not possible to walk in any other of the fall JDRF Walks, and we tried again this past fall, but  marching band and a high school youth retreat, have prevented our participation each year. She decided a few weeks ago that she wanted to walk in the spring, taking part in the JDRF One Walk in High Point instead of in Winston-Salem, NC. Randy and I were glad for her to have another opportunity to walk with friends and family, raising funds for a Cure for T1D.

But a few days ago, she discovered that her involvement in Show Choir was going to prevent her from Walking on April 28th. She was very disappointed, as this event was rescheduled due to a snow day earlier. She needs to be there, as she is part of a team who has been practicing since the beginning of the school year. Randy and I will walk in her honor and would be honored for your presence with us, and for your financial donation to JDRF on Maddie’s behalf.

The wonderful bit of all this is that the reason Maddie can be so involved in school activities, is because of all the advancements that JDRF has funded over the years for those living with Type One Diabetes. Without her insulin pump, Continuous Glucose Monitor, blood sugar testing kits, etc, participating in marching band and show choir would be extremely difficult. We will gladly send her on to Raleigh for the Show Choir Competition, while walking with JDRF this Saturday in High Point, NC. Won’t you consider donating to this terrific organization as they continue to do research, looking for a Cure as well as other advancements to make living with Type One a bit more manageable.

DONATE TO JDRF

If you’d like to donate, click the link to directly donate to JDRF in Maddie’s honor. Thank you so much in advance for all your support, both financially and in friendship. Maddie thanks you! Randy and I thank you! Your donations and presence with us, make walking this path of Type One Diabetes so much more endurable, enjoyable, and may one day lead us to the Cure we need for Maddie and so many others living with this disease. 

With gratitude,

Jennifer

P.S. The first drawing in this post was made just a couple of days ago, as our silly yet oh-so-studious straight A student sat “studying” her book. I thought this was such a cute way of trying to absorb the information by osmosis, that I had to snap a photo and make a drawing of our 16 year old, sweet as ever, girl. <3 The other drawings have been made over the years of Walking with our daughter.

Morning Chatter

I step out the door into a lively conversation already underway.

The woodpecker is holding forth, rapping his message,

the morning dove coos, the cardinal trills

and a congregation adds their own embellished agreements

or rebellious agitation.

Even the geese, returning from a winter’s sojourn, join in the boisterous banter.

I stand in awe for a moment just to take in this morning cacophony.

I walk up the hill, down the lane, past the cows and on by the alpacas and horses. Leaning into Emmaus Road my pace quickens and so does the chatter. Are they cheering me on? Providing company for the path? Or indifferent to my presence, absorbed in their own worlds?

I spot a lone bird atop a bale of hay lifting her throat to the throng.

On the return, crossing Hastily, down Silver Dapple once again and back towards home,

it is quieter now.

Only a few remain in the concert hall of my thoughts,

chirping their ideas, tweeting their rebuttal.

They are settling in for the day ahead yet nothing has been settled upon,

except that we all must begin.

Closing the door, I take up my pen to record the findings,

drawcument the sights,

chronicle the listenings,

make sense of the chaos,

find a tune in the midst of it all.

-jpe

 

Whoa and Wow

2018. Wow.

Am I just now realizing the magnitude of this? Nearly two and a half months into it, this number, a big one, it tells where I am, how far along I’ve come since 1965. This year, this 2018, I will be 53 and will celebrate 30 years married and will see my children turn 24, 21, and 16. Lord willing. Wow.

That’s all I can say…wow.

Couldn’t I just spend my days marveling at where I am? Could I not just take a moment, a year, a rest-of-a-life to say whoa.  Stop right here. Let’s pause and gather it all in and look deeply into one another’s faces?

For it shall not stay like this. I feel it already, the pull of years to come. Like Marty in the Future photograph, beginning to fade. Or like the moment’s before Scotty beams us up, pixels waving farewell. Can we not stop the world and get off for a moment to hold one another’s faces cupped in our hands and look, really look and say I love you and always shall?

Please do not forget.

Today, let me do just that with my pen and brush. Let me caress these faces I love, the landscape of Backyard, the hay bales of Silver Dapple. Let me hold them even if for a fleeting line to say I love you and always shall.

To say, if only to myself, please…please do not forget.

This act of loving is feeble and flimsy at best. Pieces of paper in a bound book. But it is how I know to say whoa and wow to 2018. It is my way of cupping my hands around the faces I love, the place that I live, the life that I have. There are miles to go before I sleep, as Frost would say, and there are miles of lines to log in my book through 2018 and beyond.

In this way, drawing and painting my life, I will not forget. And perhaps, when I fade from the photograph and my pixels wave their final farewell, these books will remain,

saying I love you…

and always shall.

-jpe

Drawcumenting Life

Over ten years ago, when I first began to blog, I was inspired by Alicia Paulson‘s photography of her everyday life. It seems an enchanted life from the viewpoint of her camera lens…walks in the woods, her current stitching projects of all kinds, her home, her cooking. Everyday things, which are indeed beautiful in and of themselves, but made moreso by the art of photography. Her writing was also enjoyable as she chronicled her days, rainy or sunny, chaotic or simple, difficult or restful. I wanted to do the same thing but with sketches and drawings rather than photographs.

I’ve been reconnecting with this love of drawcumenting my days. Not that I had stopped drawing  in a sketchbook, but I was finding an overwhelm with all that I love to create which crowded out the daily practice of looking for, sitting down, and sketching something in my life. Whether it’s the daffodils blooming along our driveway (below), or the end of the day sitting around the living room while husband works at the computer (first one), or sketching a photo of the knitters and crocheters I teach (second sketch), or the loveliness of my daughter as she learns to knit an intricate pattern …this delights me to no end.

I have been in need of some focus. To re-establish what it is that underpins all the creativity, all the mothering, the wife-ing, the teaching, etc. Drawing my life in a sketchbook is how I can see it all for the beauty it is, no matter how hum-drum or exciting it may be. Following a line through my days works to help anchor me and provide insight into what’s going on underneath it all, in and through it all, and sometimes even despite it all.  It is a documentary of sorts, but drawn through a pen, a brush, a sketchbook.

I have just finished an entire sketchbook! I love looking back through it for all that it contains from the date written on the very first page. I am aware that I have jumped around to several other sketchbooks. large and small, for more drawings and sketches of life, but when one is filled up to the very last page, I feel a wistful contentment…herein is a life of love. Go to my Instagram feed to see a very quick flip-through of this sketchbook. The above drawings of knitters around the table and of my husband at the computer are the final two drawings in this book. The video cut off right before these last two sketches.

I have a couple of sketchbooks to choose from to begin another. They are what I call “good sketchbooks”…you know, the more costly kind with paper thick enough for watercolor, pen and all kinds of media. The sketchbook I just finished, with its tons and tons of pages, was very cheap! Same with this brown kraft paper sketchbook. Both bought at Walmart, they contain fairly sturdy paper, but it does buckle and warp, something I don’t mind too much. In fact, a cheap sketchbook can be very freeing! I also loved the really white paper of the first one! White paper makes watercolor sparkle and fineliner pens stark and clear. I’m not terribly crazy about the brown kraft paper, but it’s fun to switch to every now and again. I’m hesitant to start drawing in my Handbook Journal because the paper is cream colored. However, even though I liked the white pages of the cheap book, it was difficult managing the bulk of so many pages not laying flat for a drawing across both pages. That is my favorite way to draw – covering both pages at one go. So I’ve ordered a Stillman and Burn sketchbook because I’ve heard that the pages lay open very flat. We shall see. There are only 26 pages in one sketchbook so that won’t last me very long. I’ll just keep on searching for the perfect sketchbook. If you have a favorite, do share it with me! I am particularly in search of bright white paper, thick enough to handle watercolor, and pages that lay somewhat flat.

I hope you can drawcument your day through the lens of your sketchbook! Draw on my friends…draw on!

Evergreen

Were my life four seasons of twenties

I would be in late Fall.

Spring and Summer past, so too the brilliance of leaf and coolness.

Only a few bright jewels remain quivering on their branches

knowing full well they await their last flight

of wind before gravity takes hold.

From here I can feel the chill of coming winter.

And I now see, with other limbs bare,

the evergreens standing sure and unmoved by the seasons’ ravages.

They have been there all along playing

a lesser role to oak and maple.

Providing scaffolding for all of nature’s

hoopla to dance and frolic.

Now they have their day…their deep values

fencing the path, marking the way.

I walk on. For I cannot go back.

Stopping to rest beside an evergreen

I admire its solidity, if prickly and severe.

I touch the bark, the needles, and I inhale something rich, resinous, comforting.

Surely in my winter, evergreens will guide with pointy fingers

and lay out a carpet soft for travel-weary feet.

Here in late autumn I can still feel the sun of summer’s day,

the blush of spring’s blooming.

It is all encompassed by memories of brilliant colors against a bright blue sky.

The hint of woodsmoke brings me to now, as I walk forward

into winter’s snowy embrace.

-jpe

Advent

I have received word that my dear friend, Marion Gagan Kovach, has gone home to be with her Savior. The following Reflection was written just this morning, knowing that He might be coming for her very soon. While I am bereft, already feeling lost without my friend’s presence here, I wholeheartedly affirm the words of this Reflection and rejoice that she is no longer suffering.

***************

A dear friend of mine is at this moment struggling for breath in a cancer ICU. We typically think of the celebration of Advent as a happy and lighthearted time. It is not always so. Though I have known and been friends with her for 30+ years, I feel as if I’ve known her all my life. She and I both were dancers in our young girl years and I imagine we would have been BFF’s in dance class, working our plies, tandus, and pirouettes together. She has been valiantly battling esophageal cancer for 2 1/2 years, and it has been my privilege to walk alongside her, trying to keep in touch as best we can through it all.

We speak of Advent as an anticipation of Christ’s coming to us as a babe in a manger. Indeed it is just this. But we sometimes miss the fact that He comes to us in a multiplicity of ways. The entire Christmas story is rife with numerous ways God comes to His people: an Angel of the Lord comes to Mary to bring her the news that God is going to come to her, overshadow her, and birth in her His only Son. An army of God’s messengers come to the Shepherds in the field to announce the birth of Christ. God comes to Joseph in a dream to allay his fears and give instruction for the path ahead. God comes to the Three Kings in a dream to tell them to travel another way. In fact, the entirety of the Scriptures is an unfolding of all the ways God has come to us. Not the other way ’round.

I astonish myself with how I know this to be true, that the King of Heaven comes to His children, but I live as if I’m the one who has to reach, grasp, and work my way to God. There is not a single story in the Bible where people have successfully gotten themselves together, cleaned up their act, been nice enough, smart enough, wise enough, to achieve the status “made it to heaven.” In fact, usually their efforts to earn salvation or God’s approval go horribly wrong. But God…

He comes to us in Advent as a baby, because that is what we are…helpless, vulnerable, dependent babes. He does ALL the work of coming to save His own. He alone rescues. He alone provides. He alone comforts. He alone grants faith, grace, and mercy. He also comes to us in our death. We do not travel that lonely dreadful path alone. Soon He will reach out His hand to my friend and say those precious words…“Talitha, koum”. He will take her by the hand and say “Dear little one, get up and go with me into eternity! Breathe freely, plie, tandu and pirouette to your heart’s content! ” Yes, even in death, He comes to His own. Emmanuel. God. With. Us.

Artfully yours,

Jennifer

******

The people walking in darkness
    have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness
    a light has dawned.

Isaiah 9:2

When Magic Happens

LovelyBeginning

It happens at various times along the way. Magic that is. Years ago, when I first swiped watercolor on a white page…I drew in my breath and held it as I watched the color move on the paper, blend with other colors. Something special was happening that was just for me. The magic of watercolor has never left me. It’s oozles and wazzles delight me endlessly.

SilverDappleClouds1

Then one day, again many years ago, I got out a wooden box filled with Rembrandt soft pastels that my grandmother had given me when I was  child. Holding a stick on its side, I swooshed the pigment on the page, and there it was again…that feeling that magic was afoot. In neither instance did this magical feeling have to do with WHAT I was creating on the paper. In fact, if you saw these early attempts, you would not be particularly impressed as they looked much like what a kindergarten artist might create. I did not care. The magic was in the process of putting color onto paper. Or was it in the seeing of these colors as they went onto paper? Or was it simply the initial discovery of new mediums?

SilverDappleCouds2

I have now been actively pursuing art-making for almost 20 years. Wow! That seems like a long time to me. You might think that the magic has worn off, the blush of first love at swiping color on a page might have become ho-hum over the years. It does, in some sense, become a normal state of enjoyment for an artist…surely this is what keeps us coming back to make more art! But there are still moments when our breath is taken away; we stand back in awe or delight at the page or canvas before us, and simply are amazed at the loveliness. It isn’t an arrogance or prideful thing. It is merely showing up to the page every day, being present for magic to happen. Some days you feel it. Some days not.

SilverDappleClouds3

And then there are days when the convergence of something new…or at least it feels new…suddenly hits you and you know that magic has happened once again. Its outside of you. It came through you. And it now exists in front of you. This is what happens when I put my favorite creamy pastels over top of random swooshes of watercolor.

SilverDappleFini

The first magical moment with this happened soon after our daughter’s wedding this summer. I had pulled out this neglected sketchbook from years ago. I had not made many marks in it for various reasons. Two, maybe three pages had a few half-hearted attempts. So with a what-the-heck attitude, I dashed on some random washes of watercolor, page after page, and let them dry.

CloudsCloseUp

As I was into abstraction over the summer, I swiped pastel over top of one of these pages and knew instantly…I was in love! I couldn’t make any more sketches or drawings that day due to its loveliness. I just walked by my drawing table often to gaze at the soft colors dancing around on top of the watercolor. The next day, I turned the page, and worked again in the same manner. Light touch. Gorgeous color. Again…magic!

SilverDappleClouds4

On and on, page after page now in this book, some abstract, some representational. This particular one, made last week after being blown away by the cloud formations at the top of our hill on Silver Dapple Lane. You see, the magic begins with inspiration, with beauty seen, with a desire to lasso it onto paper, or free it for interpretation, or something. But after I stepped back from trying to recreate what I saw and felt up on my favorite lane, I knew…

…magic!

It was there on the page.

I held my breath for only a little while, exhaling gratitude all day.

***Magic may also be due to the tea one drinks while painting! The message on this bag of Green Tea set the tone for this painting. Kinda cool!

Placemat Pattern for YOU!

PicotFanPlacemat1

Some years ago, my mom gave me a couple of white cotton placemats that my Grandma Bowen had crocheted. She was an avid maker (artist, knitter, crocheter, embroiderer), as is my mom, and now me, and well… my girls are makers too!! It’s lovely to have a heritage of creativity, art and making!

PicotFanPlacematIG

So for some time now I’ve wanted to figure out how Grandma made these placemats. Since I only have two of them, they are used as centerpiece “doilies” (you can see the white one under the wooden pedestal in my photos) and I’ve often wanted to have a set of them to use under plates.

PicotFanPlacemat2

I’ve worked it out now in pattern form to share with you! It’s FREE for you to print off and enjoy! Do let others know about it if you like this pattern, but please give credit where it is due! I changed the edging a bit since I love the fan stitch and added the picots in keeping with Grandma’s version.

PicotFanPlacemat4

I’m now working on a set of them in multiple colors! I have the Fiesta dishware so I thought it would be fun to crochet different colored placemats to mix and match with the plates. I can still use just one if I like for centerpiece decoration.

I hope you enjoy making a set of these for yourself or for a gift. They work up quite easily, round and round you go.

I hope you are having a lovely weekend!

Jennifer 

P.S. You might enjoy these other Free Patterns as well, or browse the ones for purchase Here!

FINALLY!!

SketchbookChat

SKETCHBOOK CHAT #4!

Drawings from a two-day sketch crawl in Boone, NC with my parents!

Tips and techniques for you to try as well!

Enjoy!

Artfully Yours,

Jennifer

My Trellis

BirthdaySky

There’s been lots of livin’ and therefore lots of drawin’!!

Somehow I thought life would slow down after the wedding, but since it hasn’t, filled to the brim with all good things, I’ve taken to drawing to slow down the moments a bit, to lean into all the goodness jam-packed into my days and weeks.

Even before my birthday last week, I had been drawing, drawing, drawing. Not even stopping long enough to Instagram them all!! Lately it feels as if I cannot get enough of it. Like there isn’t enough paper to catch all the lines and wrangle them into memories. Yet with each drawing, I can sense the haphazard jaunts of living being groomed into something more steady, upright, and ordered. Or at least somewhat ordered.

Marion&MeforTea

Drawing is a trellis for me. Laying down line after line, offers a solid trellis for the color and textures. Scaffolding is another good word for it…a solid form upon which to hang all manner of splashed-on, riotous color. Without a trellis, the vine just takes over. With a trellis, there’s peace, order, structure. I like structure.

ShatleySprings2016

Even without any color added. Just lines. Lots of lines. Line as the ultimate abstraction. I love them. Yes I do. I’m putting lines down every day. Must. Draw. I’m nearly half way finished in a brand new sketchbook I just recently purchased. Fun. Good medicine.

I’ll share more of them soon! In the meantime, I hope you are able to set down a trellis or two in your own sketchbook! Keep ’em flowing…hang onto them…cling to the trellis and you’ll grow a bit more every time.