that stitch

Beyond the cross-stitch that my grandmother tasked me with when I was five (with these same, maple hoops) I'm self-taught. Pretty sure I never invented anything that didn't already have a proper name.

I call this stitch the wrapped rope, which is likely something I lifted from a sailing tutorial.

It's a simple way to make a stitched line show up better, cast its own shadow.

Here I'm using three strands of DMC cotton and a single strand of metallic machine thread for a little sparkle, all four threads doubled and knotted. The main stitch is the simplest split stitch.

Go slow if you fool with that metallic stuff. It heats up with too much friction and tends to snarl.

When I'm taking a curve, I've learned to make the stitches a little bit smaller to preserve the line. Sometimes I draw the letters on the cloth with a pencil. Sometimes I wing it. Making the decision to STOP and back out a stitch that didn't sit right is a moment to moment thing. You'll be glad you did it.

Once you have your line, wrap it by sliding the need under each stitch at a 45-degree angle in the direction of the curve. Try to not catch the cloth underneath. There's little resistance, so this part tends to go quickly but snarls always lurk, so take each one slowly. Admire how cool it looks.

Sometimes I cut the thread down to just three strands of DMC if the letters are small or space is tight and I want to reduce bulk.

Play with it, see what you like, what you don't.

If you have questions, I'll watch the comments and get back to you.








It's pretty much finished except for a little punctuation and getting turned into a little pillow. I'd love to find a feather pillow to fit it.  And some herbs to stuff inside. A dream pillow.

I've been floundering lately, so I've cast this circle for myself.

Asked and answered.

My bad

 The last thing I did here was promise a stitch tutorial. I took a clutch of pictures that turned out crappy.
 Then, LIFE, and boy, am I out of practice and shape for being Nana! It's disturbing how much that skillset (and the flesh) has deteriorated since BC (need I explain?)

No excuses, unless you count sloth & ennui.

And where do I get off lecturing a five-year-old on the dangers of uttering the words "I'm bored" ?

In the first picture we are parked across the street from a construction site where, right at the edge of the road, a squad of excavators and dumptrucks were frantically laying waste to the countryside for who knows what. They were trenching and laying yard-wide pipes, building mountains, climbing them precariously, then knocking them down - so something huge. We were both fascinated for about 20 minutes.

I don't know what I would have done without the assistance of his uncle. Colin is passing through a second child/teen hood with the video games, et al that he and his brother did without when they were kids and such stuff out of reach, and thank goodness.

Sunday

I know y'all must be sick of seeing these by now, but this was yesterday. Today they are gone. I haven't looked yet but there was a pretty heavy rainstorm in the last few hours. I hope the wind didn't knock the vase over.

Salem and I were waiting for a friend to arrive. After much sweat, swearing, and soil stabbing, the irises have all been rehomed to make room for my annual extravagance of annuals and anything else I can coax out of the dirt from seed.  Note demon Baily at 3 o'clock preparing to raid our tranquility. 

Earlier in the day, I continued the studio rummaging turned up actual elastic, both quarter and half-inch, and a bunch of small shreds that had been bundled together with what intent I don't

recall. I do remember that Timeless Treasures check was once a two-yard cut. It made me dizzy to look at then and now. This is all that's left of it.

work continues here. LESSON. I should have done a mockup on paper instead of scribbling directly onto the cloth. The words and lines are crowded, and the letterforms are too studied, but it's growing on me.

the last glorious hurrah.

Dirty Threads

Yes, finally.

Not these. These are mine. As you can see, I've been very generous to myself. I may need a bigger lunchbox.



Your threads are here

pagan offering

Only these few blooms this year from both peonies. I think the soil is tired and needs some help. There is also a tree trying to take root up there that needs ousting. It was 80 today and the flowers were beginning to lean over and explode.

The birdbath/watering hole sits in the center of the crape myrtle grove up by the mailbox. It's maybe 20 feet from the road.