Kitty don't freak out!

I was recently gifted with a set of ColorHue dyes and while skipping through the directions saw that it works on Hair!  It's been a stressful "put your feet in the stirrups and scootch down day" so a whim got indulged without any forethought. My favorite way of being creative. "Fling it on the wall and see what sticks!"   It worked at least as well as I'd hoped but I just wished I had given a leetle bit more thought about my choice of colors before I jumped in. I'm about to find out just how permanent ColorHue dyes are.  

Meanwhile, the bear project creeps forward. I've decided that his (despite the pinkness of his body) face is going to have to offer him some protection  against future indignities and damage. Think KALI. There will be lots of teeth and definitely a third eye.  here's a sample. 

stuffed animals

I never like dolls. I was certain that they were up to no good the minute you closed your eyes.  It was not tea parties and play for them. It was lose the homework, spill  soda on the carpet, or hide one sneaker. Evil doers all.

I let my two sisters fight over what few dolls I was given, including that freakish bubble-do Barbie with the plum colored lips and odd skin tone like she'd died from carbon monoxide poisoning. "Dusky" the coroner would call it.

The stuffed animals I trusted. Thinking about what I am going to do with this bear has reminded me of an old friend that I haven't thought of in years. I had to be seven when this one was as close to a horse as I would ever own. It was a mule I think, from his general proportions and demeanor. Little mean eyes, no tail - all business.  I used sewing needle to unpick a bridle that had been stitched to his head - my horses ran free!  He was not soft. Stuffed tight with dense cotton, I could swing him by the leg and give Kitty or Patty a good stiff thwack without leaving a mark!

skins

the Ikea Octopus understands indignity but remains stoic. the Bear has some kind of glitz woven in. It's stomach was cut open hastily with something sharp. I'll be there was   contraband - this is Georgia after all. The scene of the crime is mere steps from the local post office. 

Now I have to think about resurrection, reincarnation, rebirth and a witness protection program for stuffed animals.

no fiber post, almost

I have no idea idea what this shrub is but it's about the only photogenic thing around my office besides the moss gardens.

We don't have a lot of road kill here in Georgia. I mean, I'm  sure it happens as much as anyplace else where hapless critters meet careless drivers but we have a healthy population of vultures here (you do not want pictures) so bodies don't linger on the pavement at all. 

Apparently they can tell real from fake. This poor thing has been in the ditch for too many trips to the post office for me to ignore it one more time. 

Who could be so deliberately cruel. What was the story? Was he smuggling something? Did he talk?

To be continued....

A Fling Flys

"Stories In the Garden With Monkey Teeth" will be on it's way to a new home tomorrow. I took some time this morning to sign it.


"Just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in"

 Handwork,that is. Piecing and appliqueing simple, hand-dyed cotton muslin.

It doesn't get any more simple or satisfying and I'm paying close attention.