Home

 After taking time to straighten up the threadbox, I found just enough heat to start my engines. Didn't even draw the shape. Always mindful that I could remove it without harming the cloth. Also not referring to the original once I got started.  It's good.

On to the big news. Jake, Missy, and Charlie have found their home. The closing was yesterday and they plan on celebrating Christmas there.

Home will always be where the heart is.

Juiced

It's in here somewhere.

I have a new denim jacket - my Dixie Mink - and I want to either stitch this high on the sleeve or stitch another (as if) directly to the shirt. Problems abound.

A. I can't find this one.

B. I have NO red, even warmish, dirty thread in my stash. In fact, my stash is so vanilla these days, every time I open the box, I get sad and just shut it.

That sad thing. I'm at a place where I'm deciding if I want to eat a big hunk of the shitty, sad pie that I have been baking for myself daily. 

Or not. Decision made.

The remedies (and the results) are much tastier. 

I hate being web-coy, but it's not all about me, so, more facts in time. 

As I rummaged through my stash for the heart, I found snips of red-hot fun everywhere. For now, I'm resisting the urge to build a heart from these scraps because I won't be happy with the outcome. 

Doing for the sake of doing never does it for me. Ever. 

Patience.

 

All hands

So much inspiration everywhere. 

I cleaned out the River Basket and found a few UFOs that I barely recognized. A few that only need finishing touches.

The base is a piece of that modern, super-light linen. The pieces that fall into place as I cut and bend them to my will, damask. All of it dyed over this wonderful, one-of-a-kind summer.

The stitching is helping me find balance. A groove and an anchor in the face of changes.