Swimmer

I spent the afternoon observing the pure joy of a child soaking up the pleasure of being 'of' the water. His phrase.

He willingly shed the floats for a while. No fear in finding his own buoyancy, the power in his arms and legs. True child of my clan.

Another roadside rescue

He won't need much...

Found on the side of Buford Highway at the entrance of the Car Wash From Hell. (It's a fun place but post-wash, the exterior of my car smells distinctly like dogshit soup, per my co-pirate, but I agree with him.)

Anyway, this guy has not seen any real weather, but he's been rolled around on the highway a mile or two. Dingy as if he's lived with smokers, but not smelly.

I'm going to open a few seams, take out those frigging plastic pellets and hope it's not a package of crack. Take out his old fluff and give him a good soak.

shortages

It's a good thing I'm not a purist. I don't have enough of any one color for this project, so I'll be sneaking back into the inventory.


When I take my first dibs from a dye fest, I only take one of a particular colorway. Next time around, I'm going to be a little more greedy.

Planning on some purple-gold-brown, gray-gold-blue and other threeway sets soon.

Anyone have any suggestions or requests?

ps..I named this image for the cursing I was doing as I came to the end of a thread and had one more letter to do with that color. 

...my field of fvcks

Just what I need. A little diversion.

I love the imprecision of the original lettering. You can bet I'm going to do my best to duplicate it.

Dirty thread is perfect for the job even though I'll have to improvise, colorwise.

Revisions flies

This is the orientation the new owner decided on. I like leaving that choice up to the buyer.

And so, I created and affixed my maker's mark, something that I haven't bothered with since the second baby quilt. Somehow, this one called for it.

Right up until this second, I had the horrors that I'd spelled something wrong. Leaving off the date was deliberate.

A little note about the backing cloth.

'99? At the OHCO fabric warehouse, a man driving a bobcat with a snowplow attached was pushing piles of fabric around on the concrete floor. A length of this was trailing from under the pile. I grabbed it up before the tracks could damage it. Five or six yards of sixty-inch jacquard weave of unknown content or provenance. It's grand stuff.

Here I am all patting myself on the back for finishing, but I forgot to find out whether or not she wants a sleeve for hanging. Doh!