first day of fall

The first gray day in ages lent itself to indoor stuff. The studio even got (mostly) cleaned. Seeing half the work table, all of the birthday chair and 95% of the carpet...that's lots. Other things got done.

Still up there in my banner,  Revisions has a sleeve and will probably be on a plane in a few days.

My sampler finally became a proper pillow. I found one of the

mates to the cotton dinner napkin I worked it on. Nicely dyed, of course. I think there were originally six of these and I need to track the rest down (somewhere in the cloth closet) they are a strong, dense woven cotton. Soft, forgiving, yet strong and serviceable. I was just telling someone that embroidering text requires unwavering focus, at least for me. There is no walking and chewing gum if you want to come anywhere close to Heather Cameron's excellence.

you can even see my 'maker's mark' discharged on the backside of the pillow.
The cloth has a wonderful hand, grainy. Some kind of warm, old skin, tough, durable and loving.

I also did a small batch of dyed thread on the kitchen table. I really thought the "B" on the container was for brown. I needed blue too. Sone of these will be over on Dirty Threads after I make my stash bigger.

If you ordered over the weekend, your thread will be on a plane by tonight. Unless the USPS has returned to camels and ponies.

summer's end

We went out early this morning to see where the birds are hiding. There's a big clay dish full of water up there in the grove for them.

Normally the front yard is full of birds busy snatching breakfast out of the grass. For many days there have been none. Creepy scary none. After so long without rain, the ground is hard as a rock.

But there were birds. All we had to do was look up. The canopy was alive with them.

After we went inside I saw a few of them taking a bath in the drinking water. Salut!

It's gone from the mid-nineties to mid-sixties overnight. Rain soon we all hope.

the Mabons get blessed

A change-up

This day turned out differently than planned. Charlie caught a bad nugget or fry and needed a day off from school. We took the sunshine-in-the-park cure once his tummy settled.

Later, I picked up my day where my imagination left it. This pool closes October 1. You'll know where to find me.

...

blurred borders

Thank Jude for reminding me that the work of my hands can have a point, a purpose beyond busywork or something to soothe the eye.

Mabon is upon us and yet Summer waddles on here reminding me every day of the precariousness of life on this Big Blue Marble. Feels like August in the daytime and late September after dark. Confusing.
Unsettling.
 Like having a foot in each world.

















The morning report from Brisco Airfield.

and just a few minutes later.....

Post psychedelia

This image is to remind me that I'll be happy after the chaos of remodeling the kitchen has passed and we haven't even started yet. I did catch a rat in one of those old-fashioned traps last night. I am certain Death was instantaneous. The kitchen upheaval is their fault and they will pay.

Be assured. This is not TV style remodeling. It's gonna be 'rip out the old and live with the mess for months' stuff. As we can manage.

Feeling hungover this morning for no real reason, unless red potato salad made with Bermuda onions has such properties.
Overnight temps in the 60s out of the blue contributed to deep sleep with bottomless dreams. I woke up not sure of the year for a long string of heartbeats. Not lost, but poised to choose.
Contributing to this time traveler feeling- scanning new photos from Mom's stash.
I love the way some Polaroids eat themselves while others just spin away to mist. 1971.

the midweek peach

First, we do a quick selfie to check in with Mom and Dad, letting them know I've retrieved Charlie from after school care.

Then we decide what the adventure for the rest of the afternoon will be. Today's first stop, the car wash. Endlessly entertaining for a five-year-old to have the car swallowed into the swishing belly of the sudsy beast complete with a light show and our own rock and roll.

The whole back seat of my car is awash with various forms of entertainment. A small basket overflowing with little toys, books, compass, magic wand. Over the summer I stocked it with a couple of spare blank notebooks and a set of markers which he ignored.

The first thing he did after clicking his own seatbelt (another first! "I got this, Nana.") was open up the notebook and break out the markers for the first time. I asked what he was writing. "I like the numbers the best, but there's an A." Not bad for writing in a moving car.

Once finally home, I was warmly received and righteously worn out. A great day.

The Night Garden

Nothing left but the dirty work. Truing, backing, picking cat hair and lint.

Some decent photographs. Maybe a little peddling somewhere.

Bringing this one to life, to reality, was a challenge.

It should finish out at 35"x22". I don't have anything suitable that's large enough for the backing so I'll do some scrounging this weekend.

Then, the river basket and the toolbox have to go in the closet for a bit while I get this story off the runway. Time to get the other side of my brain back in the game.

Sweetie

For a little while, she was on the front stoop watching our resident red shouldered hawk working the chipmunks.

She just rushed in here to take over my lap - stitching be damned. Lately, she's been anxious. Coyotes in the street before dawn. Me too.

Caught between

Summer and fall.

Writing and editing.

Less and more.




She drew the two of swords and knew it didn't matter then. Right or left. Sooner or later, there would be bloodshed. The only question was whose.

Old Wheels keep turning.

We are all grateful to see the backside if this weekend that started in the wee hours, Friday night. In the first rainstorm that we've had in weeks, the pickup croaked and had to be towed home the next morning.

The Honda had languished for about a month due to its lack of AC. As payback for the neglect, it decided to puke up its radiator the very next day.

I would rather have an ace mechanic in the family than a doctor. Doctors are not supposed to treat their own family members. I don't know what we would have done without Jake's skills and patience.  The car is running, the truck will be in a few days.