Yesterday, I went for my usual walk through the woods. I took the more scenic path this time, as it gets too buggy and overgrown during the summer for me to comfortably pass.
But this time of year, some of the weeds have died back, the crunch of leaves is underfoot, keeping some of the mud at bay, and the insects have thinned out.
So I took the road less traveled onto the ridge above the creek.
And that’s where I discovered the fallen sentinel.
This old oak had been standing at the top of the ridge, majestically leaning out over the cliff for as many years as I can remember hiking here. Its trunk is at least three feet in diameter.
The last time I passed through it was early spring, before the foliage filled out, while the creek gurgled it’s way around the bend. At the time, I could see the tree was getting too close to the edge. Or the edge was eroding too close to the tree. I gingerly stepped close and patted the bark of the tree. “My friend..this does not look great. But the cliff won’t erode that fast. I imagine it will be at least a few years.”
I went on my way.
The torrential rains of this past spring that prevented our farmers from getting their crops in the ground also took a toll on the ridge. As I wound my way through yesterday, I stopped in my tracks. The landmarks had changed, my bearings were rattled.
The earth had shifted.
And an old friend had tumbled.
I surveyed the area where the tree once stood. Everything had changed. Was it here? Was it slightly further back? I could no longer even recognize the place where it had once stood. It must have been months. It must have been the downpours. It must have been inevitable.
Still, I found myself sending a little blessing. And immediately wondering it the forest preserve would allow it to stay there, damming the creek.
I bowed my head and turned on the path to continue my journey. As I left I saw chipmunks scurrying and playing along the trunk and branches of the tree below.
Ever adjusting. Ever changing. Exploring a new landscape.
Not sure if it’s my age, or my season of life, or the times we live in, but these days, I’ve been thinking a lot more about SLOWING DOWN.
I used to see how many quilts or projects I could finish in a year. How many blog posts? How many pictures taken? How many trips? How much fabric? What’s next? And next after that? And after that?
I’m not that old.
OK, I’m a little old. Old enough to realize that maybe we’re not meant to live our lives in such a constant hurry.
Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, has me thinking these days about what he calls the first half of life vs. the second half. The first half of life is pretty frantic…working, working, working to establish oneself, to acquire, to achieve and to “become.”
The second half of life (if we do it right, according to Fr. Richard) is when we’re better at giving it all back. Re-packaging, adding wisdom, paying it forward. Now, I’m certainly in the second half of life (even farther than that, unless I plan to live well into my hundred and teens), so I am feeling the need to do just that — down-size, slow down, appreciate more, waste less and generally live a bit closer to nature, to my origins. To leave a smaller footprint. To listen to what the world needs and not just the raging, never-filled loudness of my own concerns.
I think those of us approaching “elderhood” owe it to the next generation to be examples and thoughtful guides.
So with that in mind, I’m going to spend more time appreciating what is, and thinking about what needs doing vs. what I want to do.
Of course I will keep sewing and quilting. I have a room full of fabric that would be criminal to waste.
But what else needs doing?
That takes time, listening and contemplation.
I’m not an expert at this second half of life thing. Quilting friends will understand. I’m a UFO.
When is the last time you thought about where your quilting
stash comes from? Have you ever thought about the process, the transport, the
distribution? How many of us have ever even recognized on a conscious level
that quilt cotton is a plant?
If these questions seem abstruse or even mildly annoying,
you’re not alone. So few people care
about this issue. At least that’s the information I was given when I contacted
some of the largest distributors of quilting fabric around.
Moda told me there’s no market (that’s us) for organic fabric. Oh yes, they had one line of it a while ago and it didn’t sell terribly well, so…they don’t even carry any organic fabric right now. Fatquartershop.com who sells fabric online said they have nothing to do with the content of their products. In their copy on their website, they describe whatever a manufacturer tells them to say, and distribute on demand. Period.
Fabric designers tell me they do not get involved with the
fabric manufacturing process. They
license their designs and have no say in whether their designs are used sustainably/responsibly
or not. This may not be true for all of them, but it’s common practice.
So who makes the determination about whether fabric should be organic or not?
Surprise! It’s you. And me. We are the ones who define this market, and we will have to be the ones to require change.
Let’s talk about it a bit.
Because I’m going to make the case that we have no choice but to put
pressure on manufacturers to change their cotton growing processes. And we
might have to start with our local quilt shops.
–70% of the world’s topsoil is degraded.
–It takes 1,000 years to replace 3 cm of degraded topsoil.
–With current farming practices, all the world’s topsoil will be gone in 60 years.
This is not my opinion.
This information is provided by lengthy studies done by the
Textile Exchange and reported in life cycle analyses done over spans of years.
Without topsoil, the world doesn’t eat, let alone quilt with natural fabrics.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be responsible for
my kids and grandkids being unable to have food and clothing because of my
simplistic, uneducated (and, frankly, selfish) choices.
I’ve seen some people make the case that organic fabric requires more resources.
That is simply not true. Not when using any scientific methodology of measurement. Not when attempting to understand the life cycle of the product. And certainly not when we entertain the implications of the alternative. On the contrary, we now have clear indications that water use on organic farms is far less than traditional practices.
I don’t pretend to understand all of the information on these two charts, but the explanation for them was very clear: Organic farming of cotton greatly reduces water and other energy consumption, and continuing on our current trajectory is simply not sustainable.
Here is where we encounter the power of market forces.
You and I can demand that things change. Manufacturers, distributors and farmers, all have little reason to improve their processes. Inertia and monetary fears will keep them all from advancing to more sustainable processes.
But the science tells us that we will pay a price one way or another. As consumers, we either start demanding organic cotton now, or we will not likely have access to any at all in the future. The choice is that simple and that stark.
-Ask your local quilt shop to carry organic cotton. Be assertive. Those designers that you love? Their designs can be made on organic cotton. But folks like Moda (who is a HUGE distributor of fabric) think you don’t care. I’m telling you it’s time to care and care deeply.
—Contact folks like Moda directly: email@example.com and let them know about your concerns.
–Do your own research. Here are a few links to explore:
Folks like Wrangler, H & M and Nike are starting to recognize that their own businesses will not be around if they don’t educate consumers on organic products, and make the industry more sustainable.
The organic cotton industry has increased by 11% in the US from 2016 to 2018. But that’s not enough. Where does our quilt cotton come from? India? China? the US?
I don’t have all the answers. But I will continue to follow up. In the meantime, I will continue to work down my stash of fabric, and I plan on only purchasing organic fabric in the future. This is a statement I can only make because I’ve done a bit of homework on this and believe it is the best path for me.
I’ll be exploring more of the current manufacturers soon. The good news is that there ARE organic quilt fabrics out there. We just aren’t aware of them.
I leave you today with a current picture of my own garden out back. Our Midwestern loam is the finest on the planet. Everything grows here. But we need to be responsible stewards of the land, of our money and of our resources.
But here’s a little peak at the hyacinth that have started popping up in my backyard. We all need a bit of the wild earth to sweep us away every now and then. For me, that happens in the spring and summer when the light and the blooms blend into tiny miracles. The closer I look, the more miraculous it all seems.
I admit, I really like them. Maybe I’m just sick of the same old orange pumpkin. Maybe they make a display look just a bit more elegant. Maybe it’s just a trend that started years ago, has reached its max-out peak and will be gone soon.
Whatever the reason or the cause, white pumpkins are more “in” than ever.
Don’t get me wrong.
When the fall colors roll around, I am the first to love my reds and browns and shades of burnt orange. I will never cease to be amazed by nature’s color palette with the change of the seasons. The trusted orange pumpkin is still prolific, as well as many other shades and sizes of squash.
Have you noticed that the new trend is more pumpkins are better? I don’t know how I feel about that, but 50 pumpkins on your porch or deck seems to be what the magazines/pinterest/social media tells us is the best way to celebrate fall.
Here’s a screen grab from Better Homes and Gardens on Instagram (they DO have cute posts.)
I hope they don’t have any need to use those stairs in case of a fire.
Nevertheless, the pumpkins are neutral neutral neutral.
Oh sure, a few orange pumpkins are thrown in, but even those are pale and muted. Understated. Quiet.
None of these are the rowdy, screaming, terrifying jack-o-lanterns I grew up with.
I confess, I think it looks fresh. Sometimes I wish the holidays could be anything other than red and green (and sometimes blue). I get sick of the same old thing.
Apparently these artisan pumpkins and gourds do grow naturally (as opposed to white christmas trees.) They are just heirloom and specialty seeds. They are ideal for carving as they’re softer on the outside…not as tough as those big orange pumpkins.
At this point, I’ve seen them now at every grocery store, every farm stand, and every pumpkin patch. I put them on my kitchen table.
This too, shall pass, and we’ll all move on to the next big thing. But for now, we’re all Martha Stewart, who, by the way, was using white pumpkins in her displays in 2003. (I read about her in this article.)
Whether your pumpkins are white,tan, bright orange, or anything in between, I hope you have fun with them this season. They only come around once a year. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.
This is the time of year to run outside with your camera. I love when the wildflowers bloom. It reminds me that the season is short and back-to-school is coming. If you haven’t been out enjoying these summer days, here is your chance!
Of course, we did not cross the entire state. We stayed along the I 90 corridor, and still got to see so much in one day.
The Wisconsin Quilt Shop Hop ends at the end of June. So you still have plenty of time. And if you miss the shop hop? No problem. The stores are still there, just check the hours. Shop Hop hours are consistent throughout the region. 9:30 – 5:30 pm week days, 9:30-4 pm on Saturday. Maybe I’ll run into you in Wisconsin!