1st dibs

 

I only kept three this time and I hid them away. For now.

The rest are in the store. 

Changing

 

I wasted a lot of time looking for words yesterday. Words I couldn't put my fingers on. I have to write a short bio for the back of my book and I'm starting to consider cooking up some high, handsome bullshit.

Who am I and why should it matter to readers? I've been sharing bits and pieces of myself on the web for years. If a reader is interested, they won't have much trouble finding out more about me if they can remember how to spell my last name.

Some time in the future, I'll be restricting access to this blog - some kind of subscription thing, I don't know what yet. I'll make it as painless as possible so I can go on being me, here. (Oh, the hubris!)

Lost glasses found!  Where else, but in the toy basket in the back seat of my car. We had a fine afternoon complete with gas station pretzels and blue Gatorade. Dear boy picked all the salt off a bit of pretzel "So your feet won't explode."

 Soon, he will be able to read to me as easily as I read to him. 

No PT today.  I was going to cancel because bad, lazy reasons when I received a message that my instructor has had a death in the family. Another beloved, distant elder cut down by COVID. 

Too many empty chairs in the world. 

second chances

 

Making Dirty Threads is not science. There are so many variables. Forget one thing and you get some epic fails. 

Too muddy, splotchy, pale. Bad color choices. Dyes (the way I use them) are a lot like pottery glazes. What you see in the container is rarely what you get once things are rinsed and dried.

So I set aside the Uglies and when the spirit moves me, I give them another run. The new process is working out well, especially for do-overs.

This bunch was a minute of my frazzled patience away from being cut off the cards. One vicious swipe down the center with the big shears into a pile of two inch strings to go into the trash. 

I took the time to save them and I'm glad I did. They'll be up in the store shortly. 

But today is for other things. Family and home. Balm and bane. 

It's a beautiful day. Nothing will grow here but grass, there's so little sun. The mailbox garden will be exploding with color within the week, fingers crossed.

Beaches

 That's the title of the piece in the header. I have to dig it up and take a closer look. Try to recapture a little of the ease, the relaxed-ness of it.  

This week had the potential stress level of burning me bald-headed, but I've managed to hold the line against imaginary bullshit and future projections. Deal with stuff moment to moment. 

After missing last week, yesterday's aqua therapy session left me jelly-legged and tomorrow promises more of the same. Focusing on the exercises -not just going through the motions- will be worth the work. It's all about the Core.

The last thing I stitched was so tight, so overwrought it makes my hands and head hurt just to look at it. There are flames in its future. A ritual cleansing. I can't start anything new until then.

There is a raft, a caravan, of vintage cloth in my future. The provenance connected to my history. A strange circle of time and ownership and a reminder of the futility of holding Things precious. More when I have something to hold.

the dirty thread trade...

 

...is heating up.  Not too many sets left, but take heart. Georgia weather is heating up too.

Although a lot of backyard gardeners are mourning the loss of a round of seedlings thanks to a near freeze, all my seeds are still in their paper packets. Smart? No, just no time to get things done.

After the success of last year's herbal horticultural intensive, I'm ready to try something new and have seeds for both Japanese and Ossabow Island indigo.

This Wednesday the weather bug is showing mid-80s with partial sun, so you know where I will be - out on the burning dye deck. 

I'm trying out some new production processes that, so far, are a lot more ergonomically friendly for me. Time will tell.

    Now that I've gotten the blurbs where I want them, I'm reckoning with a much-needed epilogue for Prophets Tango. Something tasty that will sew up a few minor loose ends and offer a taste of the sequel to be conjured up like a  Demon's Dance. 

This is the fun stuff!