Hear it?

That summer sizzle. I can still tell the difference between NY and GA cicadas. Here, they all seem to yak over one another in a hot white noise. In New York, it was more like a gospel call and response that cycled up to a frenzy. Then, when the others were taking a breath, one loud one would grab the mic and TESTIFY until the sound spun out into a shocked silence often punctuated by thunder. They knew what they were talking about.

I was hoping for a twofer with that peace sign, but the kids were skittish today. There are a pair of big bombers with five-inch wingspans patrolling the area that I have angling to charm. So far no luck. I may flinch if one of those lights on me. 
 

This arrived today. Maybe a dye fest tomorrow.  All I have to do is remember to crank it down when I'm done with it so the rain and winds don't trash it. 

amendment to that stitch

this one. I should have mentioned that it's best to use a tapestry needle when wrapping the base stitch. Little to no chance of snagging the stitch or the cloth.

I'm going back and adding a little bling here and there. Waiting on the 20x20 pillow.

I'm going to need a bigger bed.

"It's the heart afraid of breaking

that never learns to dance.

It's the dream afraid of waking

that never takes a chance."

 

The last of the Dirty Threads (until Fall)  have been reorganized in the shop.

the dogless days

I have taken up this sampler again. I love the words and the making of it, tinkering with the letterforms as spacing and mood allows. 

If I can score a market umbrella, there will be another dye day or two this season. Fred did take out the tent. Permanently this time. 

Hurricane Fred mostly gave us a pass but for one rainy day which was overdue. And trashed my deck tent.

Summer slithers, but the shift is on. Charlie was here on Sunday. We were thrashing about in the pool when he stopped, looked around and said, "Something is burning."

Yes. I had tried to ignore it, but someone was burning leaves nearby. Fall. 

"I like it, " he said. He grows wiser. I grow older.

 

Disconnect

 

If you've ordered anything in the past week, it's on the way. 

I'm going to do my best to disengage electronically this weekend. Put other things in my line of sight. Slip into other flows.

rest

 

The Churn

 

I love this basket. It's big. 18" high and wide. Heavy even when it's empty. 

A gift from a neighbor years ago when she grew tired of supervising her moving sale. I need to get some wheels for it. Right now it's chock full of fabulous. Below, four shots. I dig down to the bottom, grab a handful and slowly bring it to the surface, then stir.  I got mine, of course. The rest is up for grabs, one fat baggy at a time. There's lots of damask in there now.