new WIP

I spent a couple of hours yesterday making a selection of garters for my future daughter-in-law.  The scrap basket on the floor was muttering at me the whole time.  Later that night this was sketched out. Only basted for now, I'm just going to consider it when there is time.

more fat baggies

I have a few orders to fill today and will be spending some time rooting in the scraps. The Fat Baggies have proven very popular. Thanks!

Does anyone want any particular color leaning? I hate to make up bags of blues or grays ahead of time but I will on request of course.

historical velvet

My first splash in the dizzying world of hand dyed cloth was my Velvet Lashes...I really could have run with that one but fashions come and go. We got a good three or four seasons out of selling hand dyed cotton/rayon velvet scarves.

Making these was much like making pizza. The scarves were soaked in soda ash solution, wrung out and then, one at a time, the color kneaded in; more kneading, less color definition. Pop it into a baggie and let it rest overnight before the wash and rinse.  The hardest part was not repeating myself colorwise.  I never failed to make the cost of my table before lunch on day one anytime I brought these to a fair.

That's my first dye partner, Jan Thompson in our art fair set up at the Norcross Art Fest.  It was a perfect vendors weekend. Hot product, great weather and they put us in front of a great Italian restaurant.
I was spoiled rotten.

Jan has since moved on to glass art and you know what I've been up to.

Every year when it turns cold (as it did with a vengeance last night) I pull my two survivors out of the closet and wear them all winter long. Everyone else sits at a traffic light and fidgets with their phone (which will still get you a ticket here in GA, btw),   I braid my fringe.

the hairy hot water bottle

Jimmy and Voodoo

Here is our feline codger dominating his human the way he insists on doing. On a chilly day, a hairy hot water bottle can be nice.

All that mad color is my very first attempt at a quilt that I knew was outside the pale of the traditional. That was all that I knew at the time. 2001 I think.

I  found a fabric place that sold remaindered cloth by the pound.
The base for this quilt was a high quality king fitted sheet. What seemed like and acre of thick navy flannel had been damaged in the manufacturing process; there was a bite sized chunk missing in one corner.

I had amassed a blinding array of commercial cotton prints, mostly from remnant bins here and there, and I was hand appliqueing irregular chunks directly to the flannel with no plan beyond coverage. The stitches are tiny. Under Voodoo's paws you can see an embroidered cotton doily that I picked up somewhere.  The flannel was so lush that I never considered backing the quilt and now the checkered border is evaporating the way cheap cotton tends to. It's warm and cozy.



We were just home from the cancer clinic in this picture. The docs are encouraged by the results so far. Jim is tolerating the treatments well and now we are just building health and strength to enjoy the upcoming festivities.

it's all grand

It's been two clinic/doctor days, all good and fruitful and I am grateful but I'm tired.

This morning I shopped myself silly in the food store in a vain attempt to not have to go there just one day this week. Foolishness.

All my tropical plants had to be brought inside; frost and even freezing in some areas have been predicted. I unpotted all the lantanas and committed them to the mailbox garden as there is no room inside for them. Tomorrow I'll bury them under some mulch and hope they make it through the winter.

A good friend reminded me that I needed a little diversion, she was right. There are dirty dishes in the sink, a dishwasher full of clean ones and mountains of laundry just lurking about wondering what I'm going to do about that balky dryer.  Instead I  spent a few hours just stitching.