Rocking chairs

The daughter of German immigrants, Grandmother was born in the Midwest in 1890.   She was a thinker, a mystic, a suffragette, a poetess.   An amazing woman, she marched to her own drummer.   Science, literature, organic gardening, theology… she was curious about everything.

She believed that the universe is ruled by rhythms.   Day that fades to night and reawakens to light.   The rotating seasons.   High tide and low tide and ocean waves washing to shore.   Our beating hearts, our breath.   The rhythmic ecstasy of making love.

I remember her in a rocking chair as she told us stories.   Her silver crochet hook flashed in and out, in and out, as the chair moved quietly in unison.

Years later in Yucatan, I loved sleeping in a hammock, swaying to the sound of the Caribbean.   Moonlight on the deck of a sailboat creaking back and forth at anchor.   Rocking my babies, damp and sleepy and smelling of shampoo.

A vital piece of furniture, the rocking chair's rhythmic movements are deeply familiar.   A rocking chair brings comfort and peace.   It invites reverie.   It feels like home.

So wrong

When I was expecting our first child, I bought some beautiful handloomed rugs from Oaxaca.

"The baby can crawl here, and play with her toys," I reasoned.   "I can send them out to clean. Besides, they're absolutely beautiful."

I'd been looking for an excuse for years.

I began searching in shops and markets for just the right choice.   Then voila!   One Sunday in Ajijic, I met Gregorio Ruiz from Teotitlan del Valle, selling rugs on the street.   His family carries on the weaving tradition, shearing their own sheep, spinning the yarn and dying it with natural colors.   Each piece is superbly woven.   And I prefer buying from the artisan rather than stores.

Armed with two new Zapotec area rugs, I awaited my "daughter's" birth.

I was so wrong.

My first child, David, is not a girl.

And he did not crawl neatly on the rugs, but struck out swiftly for cold tile floors and soon made the patio part of his crawling track.

Oh well.   Live and learn.

Cold floors

Wall-to-wall carpets are delightful for padding barefoot through the house on a cold evening.   But I really prefer something I can pick up and clean beneath.

The solution?   Area rugs.


For years I used handwoven Mexican wool rugs from Queretaro and Michoacan.   As I grew older, my choices became more classic ones.   Currently, a copy of a Persian carpet in deep, rich blue takes pride of place.

There's a world of beautiful area rugs at Novica, from Indian dhurries to Brazilian sisal to rattan and banana bark.   Something for every space I could ever create.   What fun!