A lick of Winter

 

These few brushes with snow make me so nostalgic for the Hudson Valley where I grew up. When I was a kid, I lived in my snowsuit, mittens, and boots imagining life as an Eskimo.

The quality of sound in the winter was so different. Everyone notices the quiet. I listened to the sounds that different kinds of snow made as it fell. The rumble and chain jingling of the town trucks coming through after midnight to plow. An elderly neighbor who pushed himself to ski cross-country blowing and muttering. How my big outdoor voice fell at my feet. I could sing outside and not fear anyone hearing me.

 

 This morning I wanted to go outside so I could hear the snow falling, but it was bitter cold and I'm fairly certain that hearing acuity is long gone. Next time there is snow, I'll stick in the hearing aids and forgo the down comforters. 

He said he missed shoveling snow but did the whole driveway because he had to go to work. 

This was Camilla's first snow. She was not favorably impressed. Even though she had the densest coat I've ever seen on a cat, she's been spending her time hanging out on the heat registers.

I like big butts..

..because they make big bags. 

I removed the GO'keefe bag from dye storage duty for some daily use. Gave it a good wash and dry and spent a morning giving it some personality. It bothered me that it was so plainly repurposed jeans, no matter how well done. 

I like that it's big enough to haul my Chromebook, Tarot cards, paperbacks, notebook, and a change of clothes. 

The front pockets are deep and cushy for my phone on one side and keys on the other, just as if I were wearing them. All the pockets work even the tiny watch pocket. 

One thing is needed. A couple of good-sized magnetic closures for the top. Crap tends to spill out when I toss it in a chair instead of finding a way to hang it up.

Head on!

 That's how I'm taking 2025.

Action item

Back in my nest.

We had a full week together including a New Year's Eve party. 

I had forgotten how uncomfortable I am in large gatherings. It's not a case of being an outsider, I just max out my tolerance for noise and ruckus early. I'm the one you see sitting on the porch in the dark. Or watching an old black & white movie in a spare bedroom. Or teaching the kids to play poker. 

We orbited each other a lot. Both of us in thrall of some sort of Christmas stuff, especially Ms. Nibbler. I kept calling her Devil.  So full of feist!

She climbed up on the bed a bit each bedtime and at daybreak. Today she spent long minutes pulling that scrunchie out of my hair. Then tucking herself in beside me to run her ratchety motor. 

She has some very puppy moments, chasing and fetching, and acting all bad like a Halloween cat when you leave the room or psssst at her for begging at (or climbing on) the dinner table. All in all, a charmer. And, Jude, mark for mark, she seems to be a carbon copy of Soul-o.

And this one, gliding the concrete hills and valleys so confidently. His teacher told him that falling and getting hurt is inevitable. I would never have imagined this was something that he'd gravitate to, but he seems to love it. Mothers like to dim the memory of the risky crap their grown kids were up to. No such pass for Nanas. 

 

And happy New Year

 

I cling to the sweet and safe while the social pot boils. 

I had another visit with Mom who reminded me, platinum white claw held high, "This too shall pass."

And I remembered the day that she added, "whatever two they are bitching about."

Merry Christmas ....

....where we did NOT die in a conflagration!

Bright, you say?

Colin put two strings of enormous outdoor Christmas lights on it. The kind they used to put up outside of bars. He loves vintage. 

Lovely. I was distracted and still coming down from a panic/anxiety attack (wtf?) over not being able to locate the box with all the heirloom ornaments in it. Is this what I have to look forward to as I slip the odd cog now and then? 

Chrift...I may take up drinking for real.

Back to the tree. Blazingly bright. Glorious!!

I thought about it a bit, then went downstairs and wrapped my hand around one of the bulbs. It was HOT. With almost no discussion (although he was highly peeved) he undressed the tree and removed the danger. 

I slept SO well. And the dreams!
 

Two of my favorites: Madame Rat by Dee Mallon is my topper. She's holding a paper and foil angel made by my Grandmother. She needs some attention before I put her away this year. 

And the crown on my Christmas, Jake and Missy brought Charlie here later in the day to stay over until Friday. We will keep each other busy.

The fun in function

Came a long way to get derailed. 

Machine pieced, front and back and edges with monkey tongues. I had a lot of them just hanging around from some long ago project. 

Sandwich making - getting the layers together evenly - took a very long evening. 

This morning I sat there looking at the Janome for ten minutes trying to remember the setup for free-motion. 

                        Tip~Life is short, ask for help~

 And there it was, under the front edge of the table, a hole that Jim drilled through the wood frame giving me access to the sliding mechanism that controls the feed dog. He sanded the edges of the hole so I wouldn't get splinters, bless him.

The "clunk" of the shift was so familiar. Did I have a free-motion foot? No. Hmm. Did it really matter? Tinker here, tinker there. Shit was not happening. 

Oh well, fall back to straight topstitching. Reset. And fail. Feed dogs would not re-engage. All indicators point to an overdue trip for service/repair.

Let's see how hand quilting feels. Two+ layers of commercial print cotton and a quarter inch of Warm&Natural cotton batting? The best I could manage was about five brutal stitches to the inch and I have tough hands. Hand quilting is out of the question.

Tomorrow, I'll saddle up the 99K and see if I can get this project off the deck. I have faith in Singer. 

 

The turn

This one is all mine.

Have you ever dropped into a curve on the highway faster than safe?

 Maybe you were taking in the view or your mindscape had your attention and, in a split second, you had to react to avert disaster. 

Or not.

Ten and two. Steady. Hold Steady. 

No braking. 

Power through it, just enough. 

You made it.

Keep rolling 

 

Fail, give or take

 

A few minutes ago I spent an hour ironing this tablecloth. The intention was to build a winter robe. Long ago I learned the hard way that old damask can harbor weak places that don't bode well for garment making. 

I measured, made my mark, and a small cut in preparation for a big rip across the width. 

In the middle of the tear, that straight line took off in opposing diagonal directions like a bolt of lightning. 

Failed the garment test.

The only way to describe the color that flashes across this cloth is Opalescent.

Opal is my birthstone but I've never had one for very long because they are so fragile. So happy birthday to the stitching world, this opal cloth is now stirred into the scrap bin. 

And Liz ! Now I know where I got the curl I put in so many of the hearts.

Mostly reflexive

 

I'm just the recipient of these two shots. Colin keeps strange hours in wide open spaces. No mention of any drones or UFOs yet. 

He put this nativity set together for the neighbor (who likes the solar Christmas lights still up on my mailbox from last year.) It came with a timer and I was watching when sundown triggered the lights. I thought she was barbecuing Baby Jesus & Co. It's ablaze with lights and has made her so happy. 

I have been spending more time with my main characters. Building them into scenes that have to fit like a good jigsaw puzzle. 

And let us not forget the spectral influencers, Sam and Hope. 

And the other book, the Monkeytown Murders, is growing a plot like moss on a log. 

There will be a lot more writing.

I have just about used up all the cottons - dyed and commercial prints- on a two-sided quilt. I'm guessing it's 60x56. 

Now to find a place with a floor big enough to lay it out, batt & baste it. Hardwood or vinyl. 

When we lived in New York I built a king-sized quilt on the floor of the gym after school hours. Thinking about that makes me tired.

Sometimes the backside is more interesting than the front. That tells me I should try painting again. 

This is all machine pieced, of course. And I plan to free-motion quilt it with a special selection of text... in cursive. I might get it done by Christmas.