June (sigh)

...and so begins our celebration month, forever changed.

Today is Jake's birthday. In a few more days,  what would have been our thirty-eighth wedding anniversary, then  Jim's birthday, Father's Day and Colin's birthday at the end of the month.  I'm gonna have to work hard at this one. One day at a time.

Jimmy would be particularly proud of how Jake has stepped up to being a good man, a good husband, and soon, a good father.

off roading

I got a little bored with my trek yesterday morning and took an unmarked cutoff through the woods. (cue the scary music)

after a quarter mile or so, what I had hoped was the rough sketch for a new trail back to the park turned into what could easily be the setting for any Zombie movie.

I was well into this zone before I realized that I was alone on the darkside of the moon. I didn't investigate anything here more closely: I didn't really want to know what might be lurking so I pressed on,  picked up the raw trail on the other side of the desolation zone and made my way back to the park only mildly freaked out. Next time, I'll bring a film crew.

Shop update

There's a new batch of hand dyed threads in the store.

It's all I have time for right now...

Le mot juste

Yesterday was full of blessings.

A big item came off my "to do, or get done" checklist..you know the kind of checklist that rides around on your shoulder like a poorly trained monkey, picking at your hair and harassing strangers in public. Thanks to both my sons.

Then the mail brought reminders that, although I have cut myself off from the world at large for big chunks of the day, there are  people who think about me and the caring comes through.

I am deeply grateful for all of you.

The mail brought gifts! There was a box of very precious vintage linens and another with inspirational art and seeds to help my poor bedraggled garden.  Thank you N & D.

The translation of the title of this post is "the exact right word or phrasing". Of course, right is  always a matter of opinion, but the only one I'm counting now is my own.  I'm finding that, although there is nothing instinctual about writing fiction the way I used to work in cloth and thread, finding those right words is even more compelling.

My only complaint is, that like working on a piece for Quilt National,  not much can be revealed before the piece is not only finished but juried in.

The process of picking and choosing those right words reminds me of the many times I spent hours stitching away or embellishing something only to take a step back and a hard look and then pick it all out and start over.

You all know what that's like, but I get to do it now without pictures.

production

 I'm well pleased with the results. Now I have to sit with scissors and reduce all of these half shirts to small squares which I will machine sew together but hand quilt it overall.

This will have to be one of those projects that I do while something else is going on. Multitasking has been my middle name ever since I was indoctrinated into the cult by Ma Bell back when I first started working as an operator. Back then, if you weren't doing at least four things at once, they figured they weren't getting their money's worth out of you.

I've let go of that idea in recent months trying to cultivate focused concentration, but for the next couple of weeks I'm going to have to grow another set of arms for the project coming up next. Once these are cut up, I'll have to back burner them for a little while.

now for a beach

I reassembled most of that denim today...no backing this time and little or no overlap. I can lift it with one arm!

 If I can find something I like in the stash that's light enough and large enough I'll face it just for the sake of tidy.

up from the ashes

change, forced

I get pretty preoccupied with this tiny little garden in the spring. It's the only spot on our heavily shaded property that gets full sun all day.  Looking at this picture I'm wondering if I put on this show so folks won't look down the driveway at the mess I call Tobacco Road.  There's not a whole lot of gardening skill going on here. Over the years I've learned which plants flourish here with the least effort on my part, plus the contributions of the dogs in the neighborhood.

For any of you with even a nodding acquaintance with the Tarot will recognize the implied message of the Tower.

 I pulled this one in a one card draw, looked at it, shuddered and ducked the card. One more 'food for thought' that day and I might have choked and barfed. Not that anyone can avoid some situations, but taking the long look, the lessons in the moment are something to be considered.

I asked Colin to take the picture at the top of this post because the peonies were peaking..ready to explode, and a heavy thunderstorm was coming. Less than a half hour later, a small car beat the thunderstorm to the garden most thoroughly. I'm only glad that no one was hurt and a new garden (and perspective) is underway

Clutch your heart! a textile related post

 This morning Colin asked me "Where is the big staple gun?". In the studio, of course.

For once I knew just where to put my hands on a tool, but after hefting that bad boy and getting the evil eye from "Fierce" on the opposite wall, I reached down and pulled "Firmament" out of the "someday maybe" bin which is full to overflowing.

I thought about the stapler and the 36" square canvas that has been taking up space in my life for over ten years. Something will be happening.


Jack said "What are you trying to hide?"

Which is my slick way of introducing one of the main characters in the novel I am writing,  but also one of the questions I am not asking myself.

mother's day all year long

Jimmy and I were both blessed with strong, capable women for mothers. This made them the perfect mother-in-laws too.

Rosie and Eleanor just stood back and let us have at it. There was little to no advice from either of them; they let us think we invented married life and raising kids. I will be forever grateful to both of them. We had it our way and it was just grand.
Thanks, Ladies.

and of course, there's this

denim blues

Remember this?
Well, without my Goodman to rein in the insanity, I spent the rest of the afternoon, paving over an entire queen-size poly mattress protector with chunks of  his worn out blue jeans.

It always seemed like a sin to throw out good denim so I have stacks of them in the closet.

He would have stopped me and said "Doncha think this is gonna be a little bit heavy when you're done?"

I should have noticed that when I was horsing it around under the sewing machine needle.

I took it outside to hang over the deck railing for pictures and it nearly took me over with it. Ten, fifteen pounds? There are eight pairs of jeans here.

So, I just got finished with a quick and dirty dismemberment. Lament not! I'm just going to find a different way to make it happen with maybe a little planning and forethought instead of just plain passion.

Meanwhile, up at the mailbox garden, the peonies have finally started to pop. I hate that this is happening in the face of two thunderstormy days...the flowers will get beat down if the rain is heavy. I may wind up cutting a lot of them and bringing them inside if I can take the aroma. The two different colors have distinctly different fragrances, but both are heavy, spicy and sweet.