I doubt I'll be making any more because wet rayon does not like being handled underwater. The final steps of my dye process - removing the carrier and excess dyes - took forever. Worse, my hands hurt.
I worked this little sample on a very open weave piece of linen. The two strands cannot be separated and even resist the point of the needle. These are all flying to new homes.
Some new sets of the old faithful cotton are up in the store. Patience. There are many more. It may be a while before another dye session. That's how life is working out. All or nothing.
There are storms predicted this afternoon. We need the rain badly. I need the thunder. And to put away stitch and cloth for a while and let the words take me away from this moment. I imagine some of us would like to take up heavy drinking or something like it.
When I read about those little sisters swept away with their hands locked together, I cried. And I hoped that their fairytale Jesus helped them not be so afraid. Take solace however you can.
As facts filter in around propaganda bullshit, I'm thinking that a lot of people who live in the Hill Country are waking up to the realization that they have been had. Most brutally. Most tragically.
Hate and fear are exhausting. May those who wallow in it be consumed by it.
One of my characters is leaning into dark magic. Even for the purpose of justice, there's a heavy price to pay.
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