Saturday on the dye deck

 I'm not doing any marathons anymore. A full day of dyeing just kicks my ass to the point where I'm useless the next day. This much is manageable. And because I have to work tonight, there will be no sneak peeks. These panels are going to cook out there the 85 degree Heat until tomorrow. Supreme batching.

This lot is mostly plain cotton. There were several yards of varying weights of muslin. A few more of those linen tea towels (there must be two dozen of them) and a cotton nightgown with a fancy cutwork  yoke and shoulder straps. I may wind up keeping that for myself.

just a toe in the water

 

a small sample of nearly fifty pounds of vintage cloth.

Not that I had any doubts, but all of this cloth will take whatever color I give it - voraciously.

Most of these things are linen of varying weights and weaves. Yardage. Hand towels, table drapes, decorative things all oddly unused. I'm still thinking much of it was a bridal trousseau for a bride who may have been left at the altar.

This dark piece is a very odd apron, made to pin at the shoulders rather than tie. 

  

These pieces have been in clean, dry storage for thirty or forty years. Maybe more. When I opened the boxes, the fragrance (I'm being nice here) reminded me instantly of several of my Italian aunts. Dusty, sweet and cloying. The fragrance "Maja" comes to mind. I was on a mission to expunge the odor. 

Machine washing in Synthrapol, Dawn, and baking soda almost did it. 24 hours in the sunshine and fresh air did more.

A long dye batching overnight on the deck, then another hot and frothy machine wash. Another 24 hours on the line finished the job. If you think I'm ironing this stuff, you're crazy. It's as tough and wrinkly as my Italian aunties were.

Going forward, I'm just going to spew this stuff around the deck and leave the heavy lifting to the weather. 

catching a break, a breath, and a wave

 

Cold, cold this morning. I left the heat shut down because of the Mold Men monkey business in the room below mine. They get to wear hazmat suits. I get to tape up all the vents and electrical outlets and worry myself baldheaded over where each cat is and what's that smell? 

 

They came to retest, took back their nifty hepa filter machines, and swore we'd pass. The appraiser was here, took some more pictures with a trainee in tow.

It's all out of my control now, but my real worry for the day was Charlie getting major dental work done that needed anesthesia. What's a Nana to do about that but fret.

He was FINE. Mom and Dad by his side and came by today to show me all his silver choppers. He's FINE.

Early this morning I found this piece in the project bag. It had a big maybe on it when I tucked it away. After minimal fiddling, this morning I gave it the green light and basted it while listening to some music with (almost) no thoughts in my head. As if.

A secondary character gets called up to The Show. (It turns out that Lady Gray, isn't a lady at all and we are told it's none of our damned business what is under her dress. Smack.) ---this is what writers do.

These are the last shreds of damask in my stash. I'm so hoping the new arrivals will be suitable for the tricks I want to teach them.

There are a few new colors that hitchhiked here along with some soy wax from Dharmatrading. There will be resisting!

This freckled cloth is so delicate and soft. It feels like baby skin. 

Strange business today. After Jake and Charlie left, Sweetie and I tucked ourselves in for the mandatory siesta (I work until 12:15am).  Twenty minutes into my allotted hour, a solid thump on the front step woke me. I'm expecting two big boxes of cloth from NY so I staggered downstairs to thank the delivery person. Opened the door. Nothing. Hmm. I went back upstairs to see if the truck was still in the driveway. Nothing. A second thump from below. Again, nothing on the doorstep. Assuming my ears were failing to report properly, I walked around the house looking for the source of the sound.  My imagination? Why would anticipation wake me from a much-needed nap.

A call to my source for tracking numbers assured me that the boxes were still on the camels plodding their way here, ETA Monday evening. 

The sounds? To be continued. I really want the parrot. You know the one.

Good night all.

not quite ennui

 

I feel like this sunset. Unsettled. The ongoing mortgage refinancing saga is exhausting. I hate it. It all reminds me of how completely spoiled I was when Jim handled this kind of thing. Remodeling, replacing appliances, anything like that. I was sent away - the beach, a friend's place, hotel, didn't matter. I came home when the last of the sawdust was swept up, my only job was to enjoy the end results and praise the GC, of course. 

Our weather here doesn't know whether to shit or go blind. I put off planting seeds until this past weekend. I hope the indigos are hardy. I still don't know what I plan to do with it if it survives living in a 20-gallon fiber tub. 

Tomorrow I'm going looking for more of these, #$%@&!  

Have you ever had a word that simply skitters out of your brain like a drop of water on a hot skillet?? PURSLANE! It's purslane. I'm tempted to get a lovely wristlet tattooed on with purslane clutched in the dragon's claws, the flowers around his neck. 

I ran out in the dark and rain Monday night to cut these and bring them in before they got knocked flat. I forgot about the ants. A small troop of them were marching around on the kitchen table all going "WTF?" as I trimmed leaves and arranged the stems. I just let them be. The window was open. Ants are smart. I also forgot about the heavy perfume. Whew, these gals are redolent. 

I don't think the darker pinks have set any buds this year. The garden needs a bunch of TLC and a few bags of Black Cow. 

We were hoping to get the truck up and running. It cranked and ran, beautifully and smoothly, but today, Jake found something leaking wrongly. Something that may be a bigger pain in the ass than we anticipated. At what fine delicate point do I stop throwing good money after bad? 

I spent some time making some much-needed changes to the manuscript while the nuts and bolts of self-publishing continue to reveal themselves as pesky, complicated, but not unsolvable. I'm just not in the damn mood. One at a time, questions will be answered.

In the meantime, we live life.

1st dibs

 

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

The rest are in the store.