oatmeal cooties

Cleaning out old stuff from the pantry, I found an ancient box of oatmeal that had a lovely colony of cooties living in it. Do you know anyone else who gets excited over buggy oatmeal? I didn't think so.

A large seven-gore skirt and a short sleeve blouse, both white linen, were just waiting in the wings for such an opportunity. I'll see how they look as garments before dismembering them. One of my favorite cotton shirts was born this way.

~70~

I was up early yesterday. It was a beautiful day, everything outside cleaned and refreshed after a day-long rain. I sat in the Birthday Chair. From here, I looked out on the crape myrtle grove he planted for me. Looked at the table he made for me and the window he put in to give me the northern light I wanted.

My habit is to hook my phone up to a little wireless speaker and play music while I work. There are over a thousand songs that the phone shuffles through randomly. Somehow, years ago, all our songs got put into this one place so not everything is to my taste.

The first thing that came up was something loud and rowdy. Linkin Park - I hit the arrow to advance to the next song. It was Jim's voice, saved from his last phone, "This is Jim. Please leave a message." Maybe ten seconds long? I thought the file had been lost. I was shocked, pleased and charmed all at once.
The next song came up automatically. Piano Concerto 2 by Rachmaninoff from the end credit of the film "Hereafter".
I could hear him in my heart, Happy Birthday, Babe.

I sat with those thoughts and threaded a few needles while I listened. My plan was to finish a few things before going out. I'm having second thoughts about that top line.

Then, we met for lunch and laughter. It was a wonderful day. Pizza on the patio with Jake and Charlie, some time at the park. Then later, Chinese with Colin and Sweetie.

I am seventy and want very much to see eighty.

the starting place

We all seem to have one. All the tasty bits squirreled away. The little toolbox with thread, wax, needles, and scissors.

Everything I need it in it.
Down in the bottom, paper and pencil.



and music to stitch by (if blogger will allow)

The Boys of Summer

I'm still in a small shock over how the season ended for our Braves. This is what I'll remember: the exuberance of giving it all you've got.

And of course My boys of summer roll on.

small lots

Hmm, it looks like the Snappy Naming division of this enterprise is on vacation.

It also looks like batching is the way to go if I'm going to work inside all winter.

Just two colors with a little bit of crossover happening. Within the groups, there is almost no variation.

They am what they am.

Company

We are sitting in the grocery store parking lot. Sun warm, breezes cool. Soft music. Let the rest stretch on a little longer.

first day of fall

The first gray day in ages lent itself to indoor stuff. The studio even got (mostly) cleaned. Seeing half the work table, all of the birthday chair and 95% of the carpet...that's lots. Other things got done.

Still up there in my banner,  Revisions has a sleeve and will probably be on a plane in a few days.

My sampler finally became a proper pillow. I found one of the

mates to the cotton dinner napkin I worked it on. Nicely dyed, of course. I think there were originally six of these and I need to track the rest down (somewhere in the cloth closet) they are a strong, dense woven cotton. Soft, forgiving, yet strong and serviceable. I was just telling someone that embroidering text requires unwavering focus, at least for me. There is no walking and chewing gum if you want to come anywhere close to Heather Cameron's excellence.

you can even see my 'maker's mark' discharged on the backside of the pillow.
The cloth has a wonderful hand, grainy. Some kind of warm, old skin, tough, durable and loving.

I also did a small batch of dyed thread on the kitchen table. I really thought the "B" on the container was for brown. I needed blue too. Sone of these will be over on Dirty Threads after I make my stash bigger.

If you ordered over the weekend, your thread will be on a plane by tonight. Unless the USPS has returned to camels and ponies.

summer's end

We went out early this morning to see where the birds are hiding. There's a big clay dish full of water up there in the grove for them.

Normally the front yard is full of birds busy snatching breakfast out of the grass. For many days there have been none. Creepy scary none. After so long without rain, the ground is hard as a rock.

But there were birds. All we had to do was look up. The canopy was alive with them.

After we went inside I saw a few of them taking a bath in the drinking water. Salut!

It's gone from the mid-nineties to mid-sixties overnight. Rain soon we all hope.

the Mabons get blessed

A change-up

This day turned out differently than planned. Charlie caught a bad nugget or fry and needed a day off from school. We took the sunshine-in-the-park cure once his tummy settled.

Later, I picked up my day where my imagination left it. This pool closes October 1. You'll know where to find me.

...

blurred borders

Thank Jude for reminding me that the work of my hands can have a point, a purpose beyond busywork or something to soothe the eye.

Mabon is upon us and yet Summer waddles on here reminding me every day of the precariousness of life on this Big Blue Marble. Feels like August in the daytime and late September after dark. Confusing.
Unsettling.
 Like having a foot in each world.

















The morning report from Brisco Airfield.

and just a few minutes later.....