"You mutha!"

 

Reposted here from FB. I forget that smart people don't waste nearly as much time in that particular swamp as I do. And I use to tease my mother about reading the Inquirer!  

What did I get for Mother's Day? Snake bit!

Camilla was laying in the street playing with a huge garter snake who was not impressed. I didn't want either of them run over by a car so I made a poor grab for the one that didn't run off when I shooed her. I foolishly forgot how fast they are and how very sharp and grabby their teeth are."

Such a sensationalist! It bled for two minutes, was a little stiff and swollen by evening, and gone the next morning. And yes, I'm sure there's been a tetanus shot at some point along the life. I have always been fascinated by the nope ropes and will handle one if necessary (like in a drawer in the kitchen) but the first time one bites you or takes a greasy shit on you, you'll remember your place is at least a yard away.

We are being vigilant about snakes. This little idiot wants to play with everything and we do have copperheads in this area. Colin saw a very large, black snake - not sure of its species yet - sunning on a fallen tree in the backyard. That is a good thing as those types tend to run off the bad ones. 

It's nice to be able to show off the deck garden this year without worrying about getting arrested. And I check around those pots for long visitors every time I go out there. The lavender is about to explode with blooms. My indigo seeds failed but I also buried some new peony roots in the same container. They are doing fine. 

On a sadder note, Sweetie clings to the small pleasures, like sleeping in the sun on the front walkway or back deck. Last night she did something that I've been worrying about. Anticipating. 

Just at dusk, she wasn't in any of her predictable resting spots. 

I found her in the front yard at the far edge of the wild island in a sphinx-like pose. Listening. Waiting.

She cannot run or defend herself. She is mostly blind. I fear she's going to take herself off to nature for her last hours, but the thought of losing her to the pain and violence of being taken by coyotes keeps me awake at night. I reach out in the darkness and find her fur. I hold my hand on her until I feel her breathing. Only then I can go back to sleep. 

Monday sets

Update - Nine new sets of threads added to the store. 

 There's an awful lot of room for technical failures this morning.

Planning and prepping for the next dye fest around the next back fix on Friday. 

I'm still looking for that Blue that has no name. Just one degree of cool, clear, and deep...not dark. 

Bossy Turquoise is not the right starting place. I have to visit the sources but relying on the screen samples has always been a crapshoot. 

Sometimes, I think I just imagined this color.

Shake 'em, baby.

 

On the road

 

This is the last leg of the trip, pulling into their road after an hour and fifteen minutes of mostly highway driving. The inclination to speed is always there, but the grace on a midday Friday is that there is too much traffic on the road and it rained on an off all the way. So, I just fall into line, hang back a bit, and just be semi-aware of what the other assholes are up to. Be the rock in the river. Let the music flow low. Don't get pulled over.

The writing/driving reflex is back in a big way. I struggled all week with a scene that was fully fleshed but seemed to have no purpose. "No legs" is the best way to describe it. I knew Jack and Daniel needed to interact and thought I knew how and why, but I was wrong. 

I wasn't on the road five minutes and the entire scene came together over a few missing elements and more importantly, its place in the story, the timing of the thing, was revealed. I pulled over and took a page of notes rather than let this one get away.

Who does this revealing and how does it happen? All I know is that, for me, the complex yet subliminal task of driving seems to clear a space for other ways of thinking through a problem. 

Resources, finite

 

I've been evicted from the stitching chair. No more just dropping in.

She knows I have different things to focus on for now and it's not the best place for using the big laptop.  I'm not shifting creative gears as easily as I used to. Whatever it is I'm working on, deserves my full attention.  The river basket and threadbox will wait without complaint.

Ship day

 I found the sweet spot at our local post office. 10:30 Friday morning. No waiting! If you've ordered in the last week, your goodies are on the way!

Epic Fail

 

I had high hopes for this three-yard swath of mid weight linen. 

But, the temps fell, Turquoise lost his power, and Demon Fuchsia crept out of Plum and spread its pink mud over the land...

The last time I had to deal with this the solution was.......I"m searching the archives.

Shopkeeping, Come What May

 

For all that, I only kept these three for myself. For now.  I have a lot of things going on and stitching always seems to come up in last place these days. 

Needs change, I guess.

So, there are finally threads and cloth in the shop for those who are still flashing needles and grins. 

Quantities are always finite, but it's only May 1! Plenty more dyefest coming this summer.  I'll be posting more first thing tomorrow.

And somehow, a tutorial.  

I don't yet know what I'm going to do with this cotton/silk twist. I pulled six strands from the rainbow hank just to see how they would handle. Easy enough. I have to measure (where's my measuring tape) to see what I have here. More on this in a few days.

Babysitting

 I'm out here drying dirty threads,getting some vitamin D, and making sure these clouds don't turn on me. 

the work

 

I brought these in late yesterday afternoon and let them dry overnight in the studio. 95% dry, give or take, so they won't travel anywhere for at least 48 hours. 

I was a little disappointed in the loss of color intensity, but this confirms my findings that my process requires a minimum of 80 degrees Fahrenheit for the strongest color outcome. 

Still, these have a charm all on their own. I won't use the dirty work pastel.   Heathered is more like it. 

People have often commented that my threads have a shine and ease of handling. I have no science to prove it, but hand washing and rinsing has to have something to do with it.

The hotel pans that Jim rescued from a restaurant renovation years ago have been integral to the process by cutting water use way down.

The threads below spent the night outside on the work table. It rained on and off all night and when I brought them in this morning, it was so cold I could see my breath and my fingers inside my gloves were turning blue. Weather gods, I laugh in your general direction.

Unplanned extravaganza

 

I spent Friday night up country with Jake, Missy, and Charlie. Didn't get home until nearly lunch. 

The first order of business was tending to the hairy hordes who put on that "NO ONE FED US" routine.

 Typically, I waste the afternoon with a nap but today the sun finally decided to show its face after a string of really shitty cold and damp days.

All I had to do was pull the dyes out of the cupboard and decide on a set of primary colors. A little of this and dash of that and Lawdy Miss Claudie!'

I didn't know how much gas I had in my personal tank so I focused on the thread. There was another dismembered lined blouse and a handful of those beautiful damask napkins from Liz.

I did find about three yards of that midweight linen I bought new last year in closet. Remember how I accidentally cut up all the cloth I'd set aside to make myself some summer wear? I stripped the vinyl cover off the work table and laid out the linen to act as a table mopper. This time, there will be a schmatte happening if it takes enough color this time around.

It's dark. I'm beyond tired, but I have four pages of longhand writing to get into the machine. 

The novel Vladimir by Julia May Jonas has captured my attention, but I suppose a good night's sleep will pay off.

I hope to get both threads and cloth into the store by Monday.