I started early this morning before the coffee even came down. Working on this while I also work on a writing problem.
The solution(s) have come, one grudging word at a time, so I'm not sure this brain trick is as good as putting on the boots and covering some ground. That used to work so well.
The old boots are coming apart. They are a trip and fall waiting to happen. Time to break down and replace them. I'd given up shopping brick & mortar for new ones, then I remembered to look at the tongues of the old ones. Size, model, all there. Zappos? Check. Order placed.
I suppose if I had a tribal elder telling me, "Today is the shortest day of the year.
We must do X, Y, and Z!" I'd be the apostate whining "Why? It's cold, dark, and it's been raining all day!" Now I have everyone in the ether going on about it for me, so no worries here. Solstice? I've been hard put to catch any kind of holiday cheer up until today - too late to trust anything to the post office. So I'm declaring a new holiday - "You'll be surprised when it arrives!".
It's been a week of the blues and slackology for House Lacativa. Our traditions unraveled in the past few years. It's just the way it is, except for the little bright spot in our lives. Getting just the right things for Charlie, not going overboard, has been fun.
In all her years, Sweetie never did anything dastardly to the tree. It was likely too much trouble.
There are no pictures of the highpoint of my day. I left my phone in the car and I'm kind of glad.
I took Charlie to his new favorite place, 2nd & Charles. Among many other delights, they have an area with cushy seating and six-foot TV screens where you can play video games. The store holds your driver's license and gives you the game controller. I got one, Charlie and I were all by ourselves, everyone else in the store hell-bent on shopping.
He had never played a video game before but was familiar with the Lego character on the screen. It was both harrowing and delightful to watch him try all the buttons and switches to make something happen on the screen. He was really Ready Player One! After about 30 minutes, I called time and he willingly gave up the controller, but the kid had been to Wonderland and I was the instigator and witness.
And this truly set the tone for my day, before I even got out of bed. It feels like a Christmas carol to me.
Due to everyone's work schedule, each morning I get Charlie up, fed, dressed and drive him to school. Our routine is tight, a comfort to him and a blessing for me. On Tuesdays, I go back and pick him up in the afternoon.
He's learning that having a great day at school is happy business. It was in the mid 50's this afternoon and we pretended it was summer with a picnic and stitching in the park. A gem of a day.
The mood at the moment. I know where I am. The way is only slightly impeded. I just don't feel like struggling at the moment. Resting. Waiting. The Tarot card would be the Hanged Man.
I was rummaging in old image files for inspiration. Instead, I got this clear, strong message. No stitching for the sake of doing it.
Intent, purpose, is necessary for the form, the results, to matter. There needs to be a course to get out of the harbor, only then can a sailor wander.
More images from a lost archive. Date approximate 1930. My aunts Phyllis, Vera and my father, Charlie. The horse is either Tom or Jerry. My grandfather plowed snow from the streets of North Castle, NY with his team. Cut the grass along the roadsides by hand with a scythe. He taught me how to sharpen it before I was big enough to hold it properly.
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I'm no interior decorator, but this piece - it's colors and vagueness - has captivated me.
People have decorated their whole houses around less, I'll bet.
Come spring, these will be the colors for my house.
It's nice to fool with my own Dirty Thread. As you can see, I've kept some of the tastier ones for myself.
This one seems a perfect fit for this project. But what did I say about going slow? After the first length was used up, I got hasty and tried to use all six ply + two strands of bright blue rayon (wayward shit on a good day). Snag city, each stitch a pain in the ass.
So back to splitting the six and doubling each half, adding in whatever silly business I can cram through the needle's eye as the mood moves me.
and don't forget a slash of Thread Magic. Strange and wonderful stuff.
I turned off that part of the brain that plans, plots, nags, and worries. Took my medicine and stayed in bed. Mostly. The cold realized that I was an inhospitable host, packed his shit and left.
while I was laying around trying to ignore the cobwebs hanging everywhere, I pulled some cloth and thread from the river basket.
After a few false starts, I think I have something that speaks to me. Time will tell.
It's been a long time since I've built thread. Slowly is it the key. It didn't show up in this picture but there's a gold metallic in the mix to keep me in line.
