Monday, October 07, 2019

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.

Tuesday, October 01, 2019

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.


Wednesday, September 25, 2019

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.
...

Tuesday, September 24, 2019

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.....

Saturday, September 21, 2019

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.

Thursday, September 19, 2019

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.

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

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.





Tuesday, September 17, 2019

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.

Monday, September 16, 2019

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.

Sunday, September 15, 2019

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.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

this is my Saturday

Some of you may know that I work the day(night) job every weekend, so your Tuesday is my Saturday. This puts me at odds with the world sometimes, but most times, I can do what I please with plenty of breathing space around me.

Filling a thread order this morning I couldn't imagine how I let this one get away! Just the amount and intensity of chaos that usually grabs my attention. Somebody beat me to it!

Good music, errands, and stuff, beautiful things, and later, a date with the Gooby. There might be pictures.

 

Sunday, September 08, 2019

stopping, or not

I always struggle with when to stop, especially when I'm working down at the one or two-thread level of embroidery.

 Choosing to place a needle to the right or the left of a single thread, it's easy to lose sight of the whole.

Step back, feet away and see if it feels done. Is the story complete?

So goes the book editing. What looked like just the right word yesterday, grates on my nerves today.

Resolving to NOT, keep second (third, fourth) guessing myself. Trusting that 99% of those first words came from a well-informed place. I'm off to the wet office with a fistful of pages to chew on.

Things are thinning out over at Dirty Threads. As long as summer seems to be holding on, I'm prepping for one more batch. Blues, roses, brown and greens....what else? Let me know.


Thursday, September 05, 2019

no Dorian


Don't be fooled. That Caribbean tinge means I didn't spend enough time working the long-handled scrubber around the floor today. The later into the season, the more work, but I'll take every day Summer has left for me.

I've been sleeping badly since coming home. Disjointed, post-apocalyptic dreams that never go anywhere but in anxious circles.

Thinking too much about the wrong
things. Have some images instead.

Tuesday, September 03, 2019

and back


It was a great trip, fun and relaxing because my people all went above and beyond for my comfort and safety.

But it's always good to get home. Back to the things I like doing, the stuff that needs doing. I didn't get much stitching done as I'm getting pretty fussy about lighting and, as bright as it was at the beach, it was really too damn hot! The TSA didn't nab my scissors, so, it's all good.

I cleaned up the work table and finally am releasing some of the last dyed threads into the wild. My personal stash is overflowing and if I look at these one more time....

The quest was for greens. A lot of gold crept in. The Rubies and the Amethysts are too dark with little variation, but it's not like I'm going to throw them away. There are a lot of plain crazy players too. You can see them all here.


I was missed.

Monday, September 02, 2019

away


the Casino Girls terrorizing Foxwoods. Except for feeding ourselves so generously, we (for the most part) broke even.
I don't know where my beach pictures evaporated to, but the day was perfect.



It was a treat to spend a little time with the nephews that I don't often get to see.

Two charming and delightful small humans.








Every room in the house has art or quilts I've made. This was my mother's lap quilt in the nursing home. She dragged it around with her everywhere. I slept under it for a few nights.







Monday, August 26, 2019

homefires


Someone is wise to the fact that I'm heading out of town. Right after this, I had to pull her out of my half-packed suitcase.

She's going to need some extra coddling while I'm away.

Saturday, August 24, 2019

Paying attention


For about a month, we’ve been trying to find a home for a fiberglass truck cap that’s been hanging around outside since, oh, 2001, leaning up against the house, lending that Tobacco Road charm to the place. The truck it came with died and the hope was to transfer it to a replacement vehicle. We paid nearly 300$ to replace the large rear window on the cap, not a week before fatal transmission failure made that expense moot. I’ve had it on various websites under FREE and CURB ALERT. So far, no takers and the weeds are getting tall around it. Good thing we have no HOA here.

I’ve told a couple of people that Jim’s been close these days. Yesterday proved it for me. 

I lolled about in a housedress until nearly noon, doing as I pleased. Something, someone said, “Get your shit together and go get the things you forgot at the store yesterday. Like deodorant, laundry detergent and a hairbrush. The basics of civilization will escape me from time to time.

I dressed with whatever was lying around that was not befrigged with cat cooties, pulled on the non-favorite sandals instead of hunting down the beloveds. Rather than wait for the AC, I opened the roof and windows wide and headed out. Timing was everthing.

I had to wait for a few cars to go by before I could pull out of the community. When I did, I fell in behind a small pickup, black, older. As I got closer I could read that it was a GMC Sonoma, same model, and color as Jim’s. They are very plain so there was no telling the year.

We sat and waited at the train crossing for a freight train to rattle through. Twenty-some cars instead of the usual eighty or ninety and I debated jumping out of my car and running up to speak to the driver. “Hey, mister, does this old truck need a matching cap?’ The gate came up and traffic moved out. I resolved that if he made a right in the direction of the grocery store, I’d follow and engage.

 Just before the intersection, he made a hard, unsignalled right into a different shopping center and parked. I followed. I was committed. Or should be.

He wasn’t an armed madman. A younger Dave Grohl type – dark, hairy and grubby, but I’m sure I gave him pause when I blocked him in, rolled down my window and asked what year his truck was. 1998, just like ours. What were the odds? I felt like Jimmy was in the passenger seat laughing and had to laugh myself.

So I told the kid about the cap, offered it up for free and gave him the address where he could look it over and help himself, or not. He was non-committal, probably relieved I wasn’t the Law.

I tried.

I'll let you know.

It's 5:00pm Sunday. Sad to say, it's still up there. 
Guess he decided he didn't need to accessorize.

PS...Craigslist is dead. Long live Facebook Marketplace. The same day as I decided the cap would be headed for the dump, I listed it on FB marketplace. In an hour I had six people interested. Inside another, two nice men with a small truck came, fitted it to said truck and spirited it away to a life of continued service. I'm so happy. They even scrawled a thankyou on the FREE sign. 

Friday, August 23, 2019

Sun chasing

Shifting around in the chair, reaching for the light as the sun gets about his daily transit.

The strong light sifts through the limbs and leaves of the water oak in fits and starts forcing me to pay attention.