the resting stitch

After a long day at IKEA and an afternoon of Atlanta traffic in the pouring rain, all I wanted to do was curl up in bed with my sewing basket and a cat.

I had intended to start something new. Something small and stitcherly but instead, I  dug this little false start out of the bottom of the basket, set aside a few weeks back.

After a little picking out and relocating some elements it began to dawn on me how hard I have been fighting against the very nature of cloth, the warp and the weft, always crossing never meeting. I have been working hard at turning cloth into paint and will have to give that some more thought. How that idea might be a signpost, marker or warning.

On the other hand, the real paint arrived today, along with a barrel of new dyes, that will all have to wait until late April or May before the fun can begin again, but I knew all that when I placed the order.

the end of an era

I was never a big baseball fan until we moved from NY to Atlanta.

I was working for AT&T in 1996 when the world series matched the defending champs, the Atlanta Braves, against the New York Yankees. As a forced transplant I felt like I was living in a foreign country. More than one of my coworkers referred to me as "the Yankee" so it was assumed that I would be rooting for my hometown team.

In fact, as a family, we were not big sports fans at all. I was amazed at the rabid intensity that the locals fans attached to this rivalry and when the Braves lost, how determined they were to support the team in the coming season.

Little by little we started to follow the team and get to know them as, unlike the teams in New York, the players made them selves available to their fans by participating in various community functions and contributing their time and energy to local charities which was unheard of  with the celebrities of both the NY teams. They were the A listers who didn't have to wait behind any velvet ropes in Manhattan. Not so the Braves. For the most part, the Braves lived here, they played here and were a part of the community. Jim was doing physical therapy when this tall, scruffy looking dude came in to have his arm worked on. Jim asked me "Do you know who that is?" Blank stare from yours truly."It's John Smoltz". I just wouldn't  recognize them in their street clothes.

 Game by game I became a fan. Smoltz, Maddux, Glavine, Galarraga  and the Jones boys, Andruw and Chipper. After an unheard of nineteen years on the same team, Chipper Jones is retiring this year. Even though the Braves have qualified for post season play, today is his last game of regular season play. And the game is here at Turner field again the arch rival NY Mets..my Dad's team.

 I clearly remember the first time we all went to see the team play. We has seats somewhere in the outfield on the third base side. I had brought binoculars and was seeing what I could see when my son Jake said, loudly enough for several rows of other fans to hear, "Mom, stop looking at Chipper's butt!"

Honest, Jake, it never occurred to me!

I just called Dad to remind him to watch the game but they are all piling in the car to visit Mom's grave for the first time...it continues to be a year of great change. the wheel keeps turning.

thanks for all the thrills Chipper.

restarted

After I got home from the cookoff yesterday (and slept a while)  I took this one apart and started over.
I'm  a lot happier with the overall potential now. The left side looks darker because this was taken with ambient light. There's a lot of ways to take it  now and I'm in no hurry to choose a path, in fact, I'm going to take it off the wall today and set it aside for a while. I like the idea of more than one piece in the works with none of them considered to be a UFO.

Word from NY on my "orphan" sale is encouraging. This summer fling has finally found a home! I am so happy that it's out of the closet and will be loved and used that I am going to start a few more just to keep my machine chops up to speed. Kara tells me that Sunday is the big day at the Brooklyn Flea so my mission for today is ready another box of  goods for shipment. 

chili cookoff 2012

My warriors are home from the chili cookoff.  Apart from the cooking competition, there are live bands, people in strange costumes carrying on , lots of good food and camaraderie, and throngs of appreciative festival goers. A good time was had by all. Still no word about the winners at the time they packed up and came home. You are not imagining the look of love and pride on my husbands face.

 Jake is shaping up as a chef and Colin has the makings of a maitre d'. The logistics of cooking prize winning chili from scratch (and twenty gallons for the masses)  in the field are staggering but Jim has it down to a science. Now if we could only find an efficient and reliable can open for the beans!

thank you #10

Nothing run of the mill about this Friday night.

 Jim, Colin and Jake have set up camp at the site of the annual chili cook off where I'll be joining them tomorrow morning..wait. It's Saturday already, I'll be leaving for Stone Mt. in a couple of hours.  

There was a special tribute on TV for our retiring hometown hero, Chipper Jones, who played his entire illustrious  baseball career here in Atlanta. It would have been nice if the Braves had beaten those nasty NY Mets after all the gushing was over but that's baseball. Round bat, round ball...shit happens. 
I recently heard baseball described as "the game of anticipation" How perfect.

This piece is not doing anything for me so before I take it all apart and start from scratch, I took it up to Karma's grove under the almost full moon for a little change of energy.

Juicy tagged along to guard me from the dark.

My studio  from the grove.