Home. Again.

 I've been missing this place for two weeks now. Not that I went anywhere. The house has. I miss its cozy wildness. But the truth was being hidden by all that overgrowth. At long last, I faced the truth and did what had to be done.

Built in 1971, we moved here in 1998 and never once painted or stained the exterior cedar planking. It was well past time to do the necessary.

The grove out front was drastically cut away, leaving two mature trees that are now festooned with dead and dying ivy. English and Poison.

Replacing the wood siding was beyond my budget by a mile so, vinyl is final.

The gutter guys were walking around on my roof at 7:30 this morning. It remains to be seen if the shrubbery has caused damage to the foundation. A good day of rain with the new gutters in place will reveal if that last step has to be taken.

It's a blank slate and I'm still reeling a bit. On the upside, I love a blank canvas. For the first time ever I will have a sunny growing space under the three kitchen windows and along the south face of the house. We plan on building some decking out on either side of the front landing. The stone face needs power washing and probably paint.

It's my book's birthday!

 

...and it's TRIPLETS!

Go here to see if  Prophets Tango is your cuppa. Thank all the gods & goddesses that there is something for everyone!

E-books are available here . 

After a little prodding, Amazon bundled the three together for one price!

I'm still fussing with them to do the same for the print version. Jeez, guys, it's a SERIAL.  I'll be selling signed copies as soon as I can get my hands on them.

                                  I woke up from a desperately needed nap for this:

I am here now

 Just uploaded the rest of the sets.

Just a quick and dirty shot of the business of Dirty Threads. This part is exceedingly tedious, but I do it while I'm doing other things. My hands have a life of their own.

Lefty is suffering a bit right now. While lifeguarding Charlie yesterday I took a sting to the pad of my thumb from some kind of wasp or hornet as it left no stinger, just a pint of poison.

Long ago I had an allergic reaction to a bee sting that took me to the hospital with breathing difficulties, but never since. The doctor advised me then that staying calm and not adding drama adrenaline to the situation is most effective in keeping sting issues localized if a true allergic reaction has not been previously diagnosed. 

Charlie tends to overreact to drama so I didn't tell him or make him get out of the fun. I sat still and focused on noticing how it all felt. Pain bloomed and subsided. My thumb got numb as it swelled and turned purplish but that was the extent of it. Today it's just sore and ugly. 

Meanwhile, devils (the siding people) continue banging on the walls. They must make sacrifices to the weather gods because five minutes after they left yesterday, the monsoons resumed. It's hot and sunnier today, with showers predicted for after sunset. They might just finish in three days. Pictures when it's over.

just a little madness

 





Forgive me for not responding to emails and such. 

The ongoing renovation is mind-sapping. 

 
Everything will fall into place in time. Just what time that might be I don't yet know. 

I'll get back to you.

cloth and words - riding the whirlwind.

 

I don't know if it's my eyes, the monitor, or the camera in my cell phone but some of these fabrics are impossible to capture digitally.

Grace called them Receiving Cloths - the fabric that I put on the table underneath the skeins of thread when I dye them. This lot, including these silk(?) bloomers from the '40s, came up very Monet Gardens colorwise. I've churned a lot of them into the scrap basket.

The threads - and there are a LOT of them - wait to be put in families of six and have their picture taken. Hope to get some of that done by Monday. If you want a custom set, email me:  deborah at lacativa dot com.

There are three Mystery Bundles left in the store. 

On the writing front, I'm learning everything the hard way, as usual, but it's getting done. I just ordered copies of the paperbacks that I'm going to sign for friends and family who don't/ or can't use e-readers. I get that entirely.

I'm still futzing with KDP to make all three seasons show up as a series. Anybody buying book one alone is going to be annoyed as hell even though the description clearly states that the book is a serial told in three parts.

for fun and on the side, I'm still working in the whine mine full time, being the GC on the house renovations, and anticipating Charlie's first day of second grade which will be digital. 

Pray that it's safe for them to attend in person, but this is Georgia. I don't feel bad for what I think he's missing. It's a different world these kids live in.

I remember getting in trouble in school because I refused to participate in duck and cover drills.

I had read Hiroshima and knew there was no safety. I remember bringing the slim paperback to the librarian and asking her if it was a true story. She snatched it from my hands and said, "Have you already read it?" I had.

She put it on the shelf behind the desk and said, "I'm sorry to tell you that it is."

I was nine or ten.

another eye

I miss the sunsets since Colin switched to the overnight shift at the airport but the sunrises have their own magic, as does the dead of the night. He has a great eye. 

 

Dirty Threads

I'm trying to not take too many. Only what I'm lacking for the work in progress.

These have been over-dyed and spent the night outside in a thunderstorm. Still waiting for a good wash. It will be days before they are ready to go. Even inside, it's so humid drying will be slow.

Bailey lending a paw from the bottom shelf of my herb/thread dryer. Right after this picture the rain resumed and I had to bring it inside. 

High Summer Dirty Threads

Even damp, I can tell these dirty threads are going to be riotous.

Got all those green to blues I was looking for and then some.

I speed-dried this pair last night. 

High Summer Thread

 I was in the pool scrubbing algae yesterday and had to get out. Not because it was raining, but I was waving a metal pole around in some fairly emphatic thunder. It's been like that for days. Tropical.

I know I said I'd have a dyefest rain or shine but who wants to deal with that? Something about being outside in the rain always makes me feel rushed. Not how I want to feel facing this many skeins of thread waiting for color.

Today was the day. I mixed colors right after coffee. Check that, I did not mix colors. For the first time in memory, I used colors straight from the cans without blending. A dozen of them.

The mixing came as a matter of eye and hand. So something different this time. Maybe. If the dye gods were properly appeased. I won't know until late tomorrow after everything is washed, rinsed, and dry. 

The High Summer Threads will be in the store by the weekend.

Let's not forget the cleanup crew. 

Two pieces of pretty old cotton sheeting. Not vintage, but well broken in.

Always while looking for something else

This is just the center of it. 24 x 36, I think. Oak tag, we used to call it. India ink and a speedball pen and my beloved Rapidograph. FM radio and pot. On the back "Electric Circus" Aug. 20, 1967. D. Useted. I remember that night in the city and the days making this so clearly.

And this. I was interested in reading palms. I would ask people to let me trace their hand on paper, then I'd duplicate their lines on the drawing. Then trace the drawing onto Shrinky Dink plastic with a black Sharpie, cut out the hands with scissors, and bake them in the oven. I had quite a collection of shrunken hands but never learned to read the lines.

This kid who was hanging around had paws like a mastiff puppy. He grew into them.

Because you asked.