the task at hand

(detail from Jazz Takes Over 2012)

Lately, I am at a loss when I look back at the time and energy I used to devote to cloth and stitching.  Each of these things manifested at my will and by my hands, but there was never any deep intention associated with them.

They were and are beautiful to my eye. I know I took pleasure in the process of making them. The luxury of stolen time has lost its charm and glitter now that all the time I have is my own to direct.

I think I may have to start from scratch..making things from cloth that have a purpose and will last a good long time even with use. Like baby quilts. Back where it all began. Interesting.

slipped a cog

Lately, if I don't get out of the house and hit the walking trail I start to seize up like the Tin Man and get cranky.  Today was the second miserable, wet and cold day in a row.  I went anyway and was stepping along, minding my feet and business, thinking about something I needed to rewrite when this popped into the lizard brain:
 

I started laughing so hard I had to stand there with my legs crossed tight. Thank the weather goddess, I was alone.

Joe

Locked up by the rain, I have nothing to share today so  I'll let Joe do the talking.


Happy Friday!

potential prayer flags

There's a big brouhaha and ruckus going on over the QA list over whether it's appropriate for people who are not practicing Buddhists to make/use prayer flags. At least that's the drift I'm getting from the digests.



Really? Pieces of cloth with healing, hopeful words on them?  Do we have too much time on our hands?

I have no opinion, but some time ago I offered sets of rectangular pieces of hand dyed damask just for making them.  All ten of the sets were gone in three days and I'm willing to bet that not too many of my readers are practicing Buddhists.

 If I make up more sets, how big should the pieces be this time and how many pieces in a set?....all these things will determine the price, of course.
 All feedback welcome.

 

the walking cure

It was 35 degrees here this morning, but I'm not complaining. My sister sent pictures of snow. As pretty as this picture is, I was layered up, sweater, denim and hoody over all.

I had never followed this trail to the end before and was a little amazed when I passed the 1 mile marker, the end coming up maybe a quarter mile further.

Now I have to start timing the  round trip and but I doubt I'll pick up the pace much - I write while I'm walking, stopping along the way to either scribble notes or mutter into the record feature on the phone which makes me look just a little crazy because I make myself laugh. Then I come home and try to make sense of my own hen scratch.

Most of the seeds that sprouted over the weekend, lay dead in their pots this morning like so much green spaghetti. I guess I was being optimistic planting when I did. Even the grape tomatoes are nipped on the edges. All the baby plant sellers will be double dipping this season.