He's five

People say, "When did that happen? How did that happen?"

Day by day, sometimes minute by minute. They aren't all sweet and holy, but if you pay close attention, and try hard to not let it be about you, you get see them discovering themselves, digging through the layers and finding their way out of the chrysalis of babyhood.

It's so different than it was with my own boys.  A completely different kind of adventure and I am so privileged and grateful to have been a part of his life, to be Nana.

color of line

I doubt the monitors can bring the truth of these colors to your eyes, the way mine see them, here, live.

I still need a few greens, but these are the players for Night Gardener, among others.

My personal stash of dirty thread is getting out of hand.

lines and traces

I need to put this out of sight for a while before I do it an injury. The bits of cloth closest to the surface (in some places, five layers) are fragile and won't stand up to a lot of picking out of errant stitching.

Also, these colors are anything but true.
Something else to futz with another time.


I'm going to take some time and study marks from past pieces. See if they speak to my intentions at the time, or were they scribbled in haste.

messages

double-six, some hefty lines

thoughts and conditions for the moon (which needs help)

A reminder that every edge does not need nailing.

Night Gardener

the beds are planted.

the printed vegetables and the fish removed for some other iteration.

Anything else will be embroidered including the moths and fireflies and maybe a comet.

An eternity of stitching ahead. 36"x 24", this should hold me through winter.

Delightful exhaustion

I really wanted, intended to stitch

last night, but by the time we fell into bed, all I could do was pick up the cloth and look.

Having a child in my care requires every speck of my attention and energy.