PNewL PNewS
Volume 34 Issue 2 "All the pnews that phits.” August 2026
As the saying goes these days, it’s been a minute. I feel like some things have happened and I have some things to say. So here we go.
I am going to start with a letter. I am in what I call The Death Group. We have each taken at least one class (I’ve taken one plus another one twice) that walks us through preparing to die—well, that’s not really true…they teach us about all that surrounds death—paperwork, getting stuff organized, important communications to have before it’s too late, health stuff, the people we might want to get or need to get involved, obituaries, what to do with the body (so many options!). In our monthly meetings, we talk about all sorts of things—writing letters to family, things to put in the NokBox* (website), interesting articles or perspectives we’ve learned recently, and you know, about summer vacations, good books, etc. It’s a friendly check-in. And occasionally people commit to accomplishing something by the next meeting.
I have accomplished squat though I have opened some files recently that made me realize that I have work to do. Not even my will is a fait accompli. It’s written and notarized but it’s out of date—not badly. Like if I die tomorrow, I will not be horribly disappointed with what is written there (I will, after all, be dead) but it’s missing some key pieces. I looked at another document I created a few years back and I thought, I said that?!? Wow. Time to revise.
In one meeting, people committed to writing letters to loved ones that will be stored in their NokBox until their death. One friend has 26 people on their list! I felt kinda pathetic—I don’t feel like I have anyone I need to/want to write. So I thought I would write one to you.
Dear Gentle Reader:
Thank you for reading—some of you have been along for this ride since the beginning and I should have given you a bleeping medal by now. It has meant a lot to me to have people who read and especially to those who say something back. I appreciate you.
To those who are family or as close as, thank you for getting me this far. (I may have to stop writing this now—I’m at the tire store and getting a little verklempt.) I’m not always (ever?) an easy person and have not always made the best decisions or ones that made sense to anyone other than me and yet, here we all are. I appreciate you being there, for sticking with me and for helping me when I have allowed you to. Thank you.
I’d like to acknowledge my college friends as a kind of special subset of the “as close as family” group. How lucky were we? To meet each other at such a tender time and to stick together for all these years. And for the deepening I have felt as we age. I am so grateful to have landed in that funny place in Central California in the mid-70s. What a stroke of luck. I love you all so much.
To all of you, I hope you know how much you have meant to me. I hope I have said it before now. I hope you are staying safe and sane in this bleeping crazy world in which we find ourselves at this time.
Much love and appreciation, peggy
*I don’t have a NokBox—friends who have them are big fans--but I have a large binder and folders and digital files, including a list of where things are like keys, and accounts, and people who can help. For now, that works for me.
My Home Away from Home
When I’m at home, I spend a lot of my time on Local Cloth, a non-profit in Asheville that works with fiber artists and fiber farmers to support and bolster the local fiber economy. We have a retail shop that is killing it. Some days, I worry. As co-chair of the Board. I wonder if there is an end to our success—is this still sympathy shopping (post-Hurricane Helene) or is this just because we are so darned talented? (the latter, obviously) I am so grateful for the opportunity and support this offers to our artists and to the organization. We also offer workshops in all kinds of fiber related skills, from bookmaking (paper is fiber…) to sewing, knitting, crocheting, weaving, spinning, dyeing (natural and …unnatural) and on and on. And we also have ongoing Interest Groups where people gather weekly to practice their chosen…interest, in community. It’s been lovely to watch these groups grow and mutate and encourage and support. Plus we have a few small workspaces for Resident Artists. And we have summer camps. All things fiber—yay us!
We just held a reception for the annual Twelve-by-Twelve Exhibit with over 40 entries, the biggest one to date. Each piece must fit in a 12” by 12” space and must be made primarily of fiber. Many of the pieces are available via silent auction. Check em out! (Shameless request for support #1) https://localcloth.org/2026twelvebytwelvefibershow
In September, we will hang the WaterLine project which will be dedicated on September 27th, the 2nd anniversary of the Flooding of Hurricane Helene. Our studio, which included a ton of fiber, was filled with almost 11 feet of water. Almost everything was lost or damaged. We are encouraging members of Local Cloth and of the community to participate by making 2x6 inch mini pieces of fiber art, which will be connected as a continuous line marking the height of the water in the Studio. Recently, we invited folks in for a Second Saturday in the River Arts District to make their own contribution. It was our best attended Make & Take ever…and most people left their pieces to be included in the project—we struck a nerve…in a good way. Even the local TV folks showed up!
That’s all—no big conclusion, just thought I’d tell you how I spend my time…worrying about our little fiber world so I don’t go mad worrying about the bigger world. (The other big accomplishment of the summer was opening our endowment-fund-that-is-not-technically-an-endowment-fund. You can read more about it here.) Shameless request for support #2. (I didn’t start this as a pitch, but I am on the Finance & Fundraising committee…)
Things I am Learning
& Miscellaneous Observations
• When I moved to Asheville, which was a random "I gotta get out of FL, I'll just go there" where I knew two parttime residents, I often found myself driving "home" thinking what am I doing here? for like eight years, (seriously) and then, because I am old, one day, I forgot to think that. And now I forget to wonder what I'm doing here because I am busy wondering how much longer I will be able to to do this and whether that's a long time or if it's not long enough, and what illness will take me down, not in a bad way – more like a realistic way.
• I am becoming more and more aware of the patterns of my travel planning. On my upcoming trip, I am going on part of it with another person. She is a planner. I am a procrastinator. I watch videos, read websites and guidebooks and get little accomplished. She was talking about packing for a September trip in June (it may have been May). As far as planning, the lucky part is that I travel off-season, so the pressure is not quite like it is in high season. For packing? Maybe she is a good influence on me—I’m making packing lists!
Once again with this trip, I’ve been dragging my heels and then it was time to make some plans. And I was messing around and discovered—there is a town in Sweden called Falkenberg, and it is charming and near where I was thinking I’d like to be and I had a friend named Charlie who died on September 11th (25 years ago!) and his last name was Falkenberg, and for me, travel can be that random. And so, the rest of the trip fell into place around that.
It just occurred to me, I could say: I am going to Sweden for a Craft Retreat! Tomorrow! My friend Paddy said she was going and I asked if I could go too. It is a bit of a mystery, this Retreat. For a while it looked like it wasn’t going to happen—the organizers seemed hesitant. Then Paddy and I thought we’d drop out. Then they said it was going to happen but because there was a small group, the crafts were going to be different—instead of eco printing and nuno felting, we are going to weave Sami pewter wire bracelets and learn Sami wool embroidery. (The Sami are the indigenous people of the Nordic countries.) That sounds way better to me and so off we toodle on…Tuesday (the best day for toodling). After the retreat, I will wander off on my own to the west coast of Sweden (Gothenburg and Bohuslän coast), then to see Deborah from college in Karlstad, and then to Stockholm. Yay!
• Being a grown up is a rollercoaster—there’s a little of the coasting part I was anticipating but then I get whipped around, up and down, and I wonder, wow, it just keeps happening! Here’s to it!
Here’s an example: For the last four years, I have been running a garage sale for fiber people. We have 45 vendors, 500 attendees, make a bucket of money for Local Cloth. All good until it wasn’t. Earlier this summer, I was on a Zoom call about the sale, and it became apparent I was no longer on the org chart. I only put it that way because back in the ‘90s, I heard that line when I was downsized out of a job I didn’t really like but it still didn’t feel good. This really didn’t feel good. After much sturm und drang, I realized it was a miscommunication I blame on trying to do too much virtually and not enough face to face. It all wound up working itself out but …yet another lesson learned.
• Add to the list of “Things I do so you don’t have to”: Trying blueberry HanJan, which turns out to be “a Korean fortified rice wine. Beautifully balanced, clean refreshing taste, enjoy this natural spirit on ice, chilled, or straight.” There is an Asian market in South Asheville that is one of my favorite stops when I am down there. I usually have a list of things I need to stock up on and then I allow myself a few “treats” or miscellaneous stuff I may or may not be able to identify—usually jarred sauces, noodles or fresh vegetables. This time, one of the items was HanJan. It was in what I thought was the sake section and by the way, I KNEW blueberry was a bad choice, but it was hot and I like blueberries and someone/thing ate all of mine this year. FYI: A) It’s rice wine. B) it’s unidentifiable, IMHO, as blueberry. C) It’s just sweet. D) Do not recommend.
• I am wandering around the house trying to decide what book to take with me on the upcoming adventure. I have so many books next to my bed I had to have a recent conversation with myself about which books I would realistically ever read and made a pile to go to the used book sale. I am safer from injuries from falling books now. (I just finished reading a collection of E.L. Konigsburg kids’ books. “From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” is one of my favorite books ever and it came up in Iceland so I got this collection to re-read it. The collection includes “Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley and me, Elizabeth” and “The View from Saturday.” They are both fine chapter books but the first is and will always be my favorite. Imagine running away to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, sleeping in the beds, bathing in the fountain and solving a mystery! One can dream.) I have a couple books to take along as well as 23 hours of audiobooks. I'm good.
Hej då!
