return to color

This has been on the design wall a while now. I think I stuck it up there just so it wouldn't get lost in the flood. I've been studying it  and have decided I'm in love with it again. How does that happen? Poor thing doesn't even have a name yet. It deserves finishing and a name so I'm going to set aside all the fits and starts in the river basket and try to focus on this one, so close to done.

It was built on a piece of polar fleece and will need to be backed and signed. It's pretty large, 30x44 I think. I will hang it on the inside of my bedroom door so I can see it from the bed.

my cure

It's been since Saturday since I saw him last and I was astonished at how much he's changed, but, then again, it may be that he was very subdued today since he's still getting over his first "day care" cold. All he wanted was cuddling, conversation and a little Curious George. I was happy to have help. Babies have always liked Colin. It's like having a circus for backup singers.

A+ day

"Nothing happens by thinking it through."  Who said that? Some damn hero I'd like to thank, but tonight, it's me.

I got up early, slew two administrative dragons and scratched them off the list. Then spent a total of fours whole hours actually writing.

The kinds of things that you say "Yeah, I got that. This, this and that needs to get yakked about here and more of the same there in order for this whole thing to make any sense.

Just having in my head is not all that useful to the reader. This little boring bits of connective tissue are everywhere. I feel Dr. Frankenstein's pain.

Meanwhile, the dye deck has become jungle lush. Who plants sunflowers and hyacinth vines in deck pots? My jars and steel tubs wait patiently.

just going - thank grace & jude

The only blogs still worth reading are the ones where the writer is having a substantive conversation with themselves while staying aware that they have an audience of readers who care. The things shared may be mundane - art fails, garden triumphs, day to day doings - or they may be world changers, which are tougher to share, but I like to think of the sharing, all of it, is an act of affirmation; the affirmation of the commonality of human experience.

I have withdrawn from here in recent months because I felt I had nothing to contribute. My creative focus has been pared down to words on a page and the feedback I get from the e-world regarding writing in general, is that it's a fool's errand. I might just as well finish a good scene and then take it to the crapper, shred it and flush a page at a time so as to not jam up the works.  And yet, I persist.

It reminds me so much of the major frustration of being a fiber artist! All that time and energy going into something that winds up rolled and put into storage! Right now I'm looking at a pile of over a dozen large pieces

waiting to be re-rolled, wrapped and inventoried to go back into storage in a different location leaving me to ponder what has been the real work of my lifetime, undoubtedly, my people.

Meanwhile, the world still spins day to day and chores await. Here's the annual studio in chaos picture. I can promise an "after picture" because life and changes have necessitated that I return to the room on a daily basis. Change your surroundings, change your mind? We'll see.

mending & thank you

I keep missing these!  The moonflowers have opted to bloom on the outside of the trellis this year and I've been sleeping too late to catch the blossoms open. A trend that must cease.

Saw my primary doctor yesterday and he was happy that all of the things that I have been tested for have come back negative and my overall health is good .

That's not to say nothing happened. It was all in my head, yeah, that's the ticket. Whatever "it" was has left me with damage to repair through physical therapy for a while. There will be follow-up visits with a neurologist and I have to go looking for a walking stick but no drilling my skull for the fun of it at the moment.

Deep thanks to all of you who have offered strength and encouragement all along this mystery trip. I did not buy the t-shirt, or postcards and do not plan on passing this way again.

the world spins on ....

....without me. As it will for all of us, riders or not. I am feeling a little better each day even though I have no diagnosis as yet. I'm not being treated for anything specific- all of which makes me hopeful that my body is tending itself and making the necessary adjustments.

I feel suspended in time. When I go outdoors I can't tell by the sun or rain if it's spring or fall, the weather has been in neutral since I came home from the hospital.

I've not done any satisfactory stitching without stabbing myself so here's something that goes back a few months. My contribution to Charlies musical education.

He's had to start daycare a little early and it just breaks my heart even though he's a bold character and ready to meet the world on his own terms. He will flourish.

(If utube tampers with the audio here's the link to the music that was playing )

released

I've been in the hospital since Sunday with what first presented as a stroke which was then (mostly) ruled out.

Since then I have been through five human toasters and have consorted with a squadron of vampires, but still have no diagnosis. Now it's hurry up and wait to see what comes next.

I asked that my project bag be brought to me here. It arrived without the project so I started something new from scraps floating around with the threads and such, but my left hand and some other left parts, remain a little stupid. Rough when you are working with sharps.

at this rate

...I might finish this one around Christmas. So I'm going to put it in a gallon ziploc bag with all the essential tools and a small selection of thread and possible scrap contenders so I can have it with me, if and when the mood strikes. It's been happening from time to time while Charlie settles in for a nap. I can never tell if he's going down for an hour or just fifteen minutes!

Been kind of pre-occupied lately  battling paper dragons on all points of the compass; IRS, SS, local courts, other legal entities. "Who put me in charge of all this Shit?" she muttered as she stood before the mirror.

Summer spins on and the book is starting to fall into place. It's too hot to do any walking, but working the wet office has become part of the daily (well, three or four days a week) routine.

flipping the days

We're having an all day rain so I pretended it was Sunday and didn't do any of the Gottas and ran with the Wannas. Most satisfying.

 I started auditioning cloth for this new piece, then interrupted the process to re-watch "Guardians of the Galaxy". Even more fun this time because we left the closed captioning on and I could actually follow the dialogue, such as it is. It's a comic book after all. Just fun.

Washed an unhappy cat and got back to cloth shuffling remarkably unscathed.

Sorry now that I have to set it aside to go to work. If the thunderstorms persist, there could be a miraculous power failure.

sunday change up

Routines are good until they become ruts so I did everything different today, except for writing first thing in the morning.

NO housework. Whatever didn't get done yesterday will wait until Monday.

Pool early, before the sun was too strong.

A Braves game with Charlie napping on my arm

and late in the day, cleaning and restocking the river basket which led to a little tentative stitching.

My fingers feel stiff and dumb, but the cloth felt good and late day light is just as good as early morning.

Soon, I'll add night walking.

busy week

I did a little stitching when no one was looking. This light chambray shirt had a corporate logo over the breast pocket that just had to go.

Nothing gets done anymore without my assistant.


Yesterday would have been our 39th wedding anniversary I blogged about it here.

and today our 39th legal anniversary. We had to do it twice because the judge screwed up and it was always nice to have two chances to celebrate on the times that life got in the way.


What does it take to have a long and happy marriage?


A bunch of mothers, aunties and  grammas doing the tarantella in the back yard.